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ARMY BALLADS 

AND OTHER VERSES 



ARMY BALLADS 

AND OTHER VERSES 



BY 

ERWIN CLARKSON GARRETT 

Author of "My Bunkie and Other Ballads," 
"The Dyak Chief and Other Verses" 



PHILADELPHIA 

THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY 

1916 



w 



G)pyright, 1916, by 
ERWIN CLARKSON GARRETT 



1/P 



APR 15 1916 



'CI.A 4277 122 



1 < I 



THIS VOLUME, LIKE ITS PREDECESSORS. 

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 

TO MY MOTHER, 

AND TO THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER. 

CAPTAIN GEORGE L. GARRETT. 



5] 



PREFACE 

THIS book consists of verses taken from my two previous 
volumes, "The Dyak Chief and Other Verses" and "My 
Bunkie and Other Ballads", and fifteen recent poems,! not 
heretofore published in book form. Of these latter, fourteen 
have been grouped together and form Part II, and the other, 
an army piece entitled "The Cavalryman," is the first poem 
in Part I. 

The volume as a whole is divided into four parts. 

Part I is composed exclusively of American army ballads, 
based on my personal experiences and observations while 
serving as a private in Companies L and G, 23rd U. S. 
Infantry (Regulars) and Troop I, 5th U. S. Cavalry (Regu- 
lars), during the Philippine Insurrection of 1899-1902. 

For the benefit of the general reader, but especially for 
the benefit of those who have been good enough to take an 
interest in the army verses of one or the other of my two 
previous books, I would like to mention that this volume 
contains, in Part I, my full and complete collection of army 
ballads, to date. 

Parts II and III consist of poems on various subjects, 
without any interrelation, and could as readily and consist- 
ently have been grouped together except for a possible 
desirability of keeping separate the newer and the older 
ones. Consequently I have placed all my new verses, except 
"The Cavalryman," by themselves to form Part II, and 
the non-military ones that appeared in "The Dyak Chief and 
Other Verses" and "My Bunkie and Other Ballads" I have 
grouped to form Part III. 

171 



PREFACE 

Part IV consists wholly of the single, long poem, "The 
Dyak Chief." If one's liver is not strong or one's heart 
action is imperfect or if one is the unfortunate possessor of a 
supersensitive astral soul of abnormally ultra-violet suscep- 
tibility — they should pause, ponder and procrastinate ere 
attempting to peruse this final poem. It is the tale of a 
savage people, far beyond civilization's last outpost, in the 
heart of central Borneo, and for me to attempt to treat or 
adorn the subject in a delicate, dilettante manner would be 
about as logical and apropos as for the manager of the Zoo 
to use lavender water and talcum powder on the laughing 
hyena. 

In closing this Preface it might be well to quote verbatim 
from the Preface of "The Dyak Chief and Other Verses:" 

" 'The Dyak Chief is a romance of central Borneo, that 
I visited in July, 1 908, during a little trip around the World. 

"Coming over from Java, which I had just finished touring, 
I arrived at Bandjermasin, in southeastern Borneo, near the 
coast, and from whence I took a small steamer up the Barito 
River to Poeroek Tjahoe, corrupted by the white man to 
'Poorook Jow,' deep in the interior of the island. 

"Poeroek Tjahoe was the last white (Dutch) settlement, 
and from there I went with three Malay coolies five days tramp 
on foot through the jungle, northwest, penetrating the very 
heart of Borneo, sleeping the first three nights in the houses 
of the Dyaks, some nomadic tribes of whom still roam the 
jungle as head-hunters, and the last two nights upon impro- 
vised platforms out in the open, till I reached Batoe Paoe, a 
town or kampong in the geographical center of the island. 

"I also visited a nearby village, Olong Liko, afterwards 
returning by the Moeroeng and Barito Rivers to Poeroek 



PREFACE 

Tjahoe, and from thence back to Bandjermasin on the little 
river-steamer and then by boat to Singapore, which was the 
radiating headquarters for my trips to Sumatra, Java, Borneo 
and Siam. 

"Having thus reached the very center of Borneo on foot, 
I had an excellent opportunity to study the country, the 
people and the general conditions, so that the reader of The 
Dyak Chief need feel no hesitancy in accepting as accurate 
and authentic, all descriptions, details and touches of 'local 
color' or 'atmosphere' contained in the poem. 

"Full notes on 'The Dyak Chief will be found at the end 
of the volume. ****** 

"It is sincerely hoped that the reader will make full use 
of the notes appended at the back of the book, which addenda 
I have endeavored to treat with as much brevity as may be 
compatible with succinctness." 

E. C. G. 

Philadelphia, March 1, 1916. 



19] 



CONTENTS 
PART ONE -ARMY BALLADS 

PAGE 

The Cavalryman 19 

On the Water -Wagon 21 

Army of Pacification 23 

Solitary 25 

The Sultan Comes to Town 27 

Philippine Rankers 31 

Dobie Itch 34 

The Service Arms 36 

MyBunhie 39 

The Dog-Robber 41 

The Old Sergeant 43 

The Rookie 45 

The Cruel American Soldier 46 

The Army Growl 48 

A Southern Philippine Guard 51 

Hiking 53 

The Night Rest 56 

Mail-Day in the Philippines 58 

The Bosoboso Trail 61 

Philippine Twilight 64 

The Beno Curse 66 

Someone's Got a Mandolin 68 

The Islands' Hand 70 

"Taps" 72 

The Regular Cavalree 74 

General Nelson A. Miles 76 

The Ex-Soldier's Trip Back • ■ • 78 

Major Sour 81 

[11] 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Army Beans 83 

Bugles Calling 86 

Heroes 89 

An Exile 91 

The Machine Gun 93 

Regular and Militiaman 95 

PART TWO -NEW VERSES 

Peace 101 

Bobs of Kandahar 1 05 

Old Acquaintance 106 

The Song of the Submarine 1 08 

After the Long Day's Work 110 

Material Ill 

Albert of Belgium 113 

The Song the Sea Fog Sang 114 

Onward Pennsylvania! 116 

Fame 118 

The Grand Canyon 1 20 

The King's Jester 121 

In Memoriam 1 23 

The Eternal Sea 1 24 

PART THREE -OTHER VERSES 

Shah Jehan 131 

The Omnipotent 135 

The Outbound Trail 137 

The Fool 139 

The Ships 142 

The First Poet 143 

The Test 145 

[121 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Port o Lost Delight 147 

William Cullen Bryant 151 

King Bamboo 1 52 

Music 153 

Joggins 154 

Arolas at Jolo 1 58 

Christmas Greeting 161 

The Empire Cities 1 62 

The Heart of the Rover 165 

To a College Friendship 1 67 

The Song of Asia 1 68 

The Calling of the Winds 171 

The Failers 1 73 

The City Moon 175 

The Doubter 177 

The Song of the Blind 180 

Mark Twain 183 

The Summit 184 

The Little Bronze Cross 1 85 

Keats 187 

Christmas 188 

Tuck Away — Little Dreams 1 89 

Bloody Angle 190 

The Microbe 192 

The Seas 193 

God's Acre 1 95 

Gold 196 

The Legion 197 

The Altar 198 

The Song of the Aeroplane 200 

To My Mother 202 

[131 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Pack Your Trunk and Go 203 

The New Bard 205 

Woman 208 

Father Time 210 

My Loves 212 

The Forum 214 

The Heritage 215 

The Adjusting Hour 217 

The Outposters 218 

Wondering 221 

Battleships 223 

The American Flag 226 

The Great Doctors 228 

The Dreamer and the Doer 229 

Spain 230 

The Lights 233 

The Fairest Moon 234 

The Striver 236 

TheOldMen 237 

The Four-Roads Post 239 

The Days of Chivalry 241 

Phantom-land 243 

The Rose 245 

Patriotism 246 

Kelvin 248 

PART FOUR 
The Dyak Chief 251 

Notes 269 

Criticisms 281 

114] 



Heaven and Hell and Sorrow and Joy and Love and War and 

Strife — 
What a comical combination goes to making a soldiers life. 
He's dark for a coat of white-wash — 
But "white" 'neath a coat of tan — 
So hold out your paw, 
(And your heart, what's more), 
To the Regular Army man. 
Yes Yes: 
And a three times three with a ripping roar 
For the Regular Army Man. 



115] 



PART ONE 

ARMY BALLADS 



// roughened songs of soldier life 
Don't thrill you through and through, 

If a little "cuss-word" here and there 
Appals and frightens you, 

Then, gentle reader, sk.ip Part I 
And hasten to Part II. 

But if your better, stronger soul, 

By broader breezes fanned, 
Can see, beyond the gill and dross, 

Where nobler emblems stand — 
Then read Part I and know each Son 

Who guards the Fatherland. 



M7] 



THE CAVALRYMAN 

HE was grisly, he was grumpy, 
He was freckled, gnarled and tanned; 

And his boots they reeked o' Stables, 
And the veins swelled on his hand, 

And he chewed black plug tobacco 
And he spat into the sand. 

He eyed me front and backward — 

His glance was like a sword: 
He frowned approval 'neath his hat 

That bore the yellow cord: 
He said — "You're no dam'd Dough-boy 

Or Gunner or Engineer," 
And he shoved a hardened paw at me, 

With an Arizona leer. 

Said he — "The Dough-boys, they're all right 

They're good old socks at that. 
They're plugging, plodding, useful guys — " 

Again he paused and spat. 
"But, sure as a Rookie gets the boils 

And rolls like a ship at sea, 
A Trooper of the Horse outranks 

A colonel o' infantry. 

"And then," said he, "there come the Guns 
All polished up and swell: 
[191 



ARMY BALLADS 



And when they give a volley, 
Believe me, they raise hell. 

They pick you off a mile or more 
And scatter you out to sea — 

But a Trooper of the Horse outranks 
The whole Artillery. 

"The Quinine Corps, though sloppy, 

Thank Heaven for the same; 
The Ord'nance and the Builders 

All help along the game: 
But — " here he swore a dreadful oath 

The kind that rips and sears — 
"A Trooper of the Horse outranks 

A General of Engineers." 



20] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



ON THE WATER-WAGON 

PAY-DAY'S done and I've had my little fun — 

I've had my monthly row — 
And they put me in "the mill" and they told me, "Peace be 
still," 

And — I am on the Water-wagon now. 

Oh I'm on the Waler-toagon and the time is surely draggin 

And I'm thirsty as I can be; 
And I'm nursing of an eye that I got for being fly, 

And I'm bunking bac\ o' bars exclusively. 

Now wouldn't it upset you — now wouldn't it afret you 
If they jugged you 'cause you got a little tight, 

And a zig-zag course you laid when doing Dress Parade, 
And you really thought Guide Right was Column Right. 

Oh I'm on the Water-wagon but the trial is surely laggin 

And I'm dryer than the Arizona dust, 
And my throat is full o' hay and I'm choppin wood all day 

'Cause the Sergeant of the Guard, he says I must. 

The Jug is rank and slummy and I'm sitting like a dummy 
Looking over at the barracks where I hear the mess-tins 
clang: 
And the fool I am comes o'er me, as I chant the same old 
story, 
The Ballad of the Guard-house — until I go and hang: — 
[21] 



ARMY BALLADS 



"Oh I'm on the Water-wagon, you'll never see me saggin, 
I am glued and tied and fastened to the seat. . . ." 

And I hear the fellers snicker where the two lone candles flicker, 
And I shut-up like a soldier — with the Ballad incomplete. 



22 



AND OTHER VERSES 



ARMY OF PACIFICATION 

Cuba 1907 

I'VE hiked a trail where the last marks fail 

And the vine-choked jungles yawn, 
I've doubled-out on a dirty scout 

Two hours before the dawn, 
I've done my drill when the palms hung still 

And rations nearly gone. 

I've soldier'd in Pinar del Rio — 

In 'Frisco and Aparri — 
I've lifted their lights through the tropic nights 

O'er the breast of a golden sea, 
But this is surely the craziest puzzle 

That ever has puzzled me. 

It's this. I'm here in Cuba 

Where the royal palms swing high, 
And the White Man's plantations of all o' the Nations 

Are scattered ahither and nigh 
And the native galoot who must revolute 

Though no one can tell you just why. 

And when I go mapping the mountain and vale 
Or a practice-march happens my way, 

Each planter I meet is lovely and sweet 
And setteth them up right away, 

"And won't I come in and how've I been?" 
And — "How long do I think the troops stay P" 
[23] 



ARMY BALLADS 



They never besprinkled my bosom 

When I soldier'd over home, 
Nor clasped me in glee when I came from the sea 

Where the Seal Rock breakers comb, 
Or stamped on a strike and scattered them wide 

Like the scud of the back-set foam. 

When I saved 'em their stinking Islands 

They cursed me for being rough: 
(They wouldn't dare to have soldier'd there 

But they called me brutal and tough. 
I had done their work and the land was theirs, 

Which I reckon was nearly enough). 

They never enthuse over khaki or "blues" 

Anywhere else I've been. 
They never go wild and bless the child 

And say "Oh Willie come in." 
Though on my soul, I'm damned if I see 

Just where is the Cardinal Sin. 

I'm only a buck o the rank and file 

As stupid as I can be, 
So this is the craziest puzzle 

That ever has puzzled me. 
(I'm perfectly dry but I must bat an eye. 

For you think that I cannot see.) 



24 i 



AND OTHER VERSES 



SOLITARY 

WE'RE walking our post like a little tin soldier, 

Backward and forward we go, 
By the Solitary's cell, which assuredly is hell — 

It's five foot square you know. 

The boy was all right but he would get tight 

When pay-day came around; 
And the non-com he hated was thereupon slated 

To measure 5-10 on the ground. 

Oh yes, we've been in the calaboose, 

We've done our turn in the jug; 
'Cause the fellow we lick must go raise a kick — 

The dirty, cowardly mug. 

His heart was all right and his arm was all right, 
But it's fearful what drink will do: 

And the corporal he hit with the butt of a gun 
And nigh put the corporal through. 

It's way against orders, it's awful, I know, 
They'd jug me myself — what's more — 

But I must slip the beggar a chew and a smoke 
Just under the jamb of the door. 

He's bound to get Ten and a Bob for sure 

Abreaking stone on the Isle, 
So they fastened 'im fair in a five foot square 

Till the day that they give 'im a trial. 
[25] 



ARMY BALLADS 



Oh the Corporal o' the Guard is a wakeful man — 

My duty is written plain, 
But the Solitary there in his cramped and lonely lair, 

It's enough to drive a man insane. 

He's time to repent for the money that he spent 

And the temper that cursed him too, 
When he's breaking rock all day by the shores o' 'Frisco Bay 

Where he sees the happy homeward-bounds come through. 

Shall we risk it — shall we risk it — heart o' mine? 

Oh damn the Corporal of the Guard. 
While we slip "the makings" under to the Solitary's wonder, 

And the whispered thanks come back — "God bless you, 
pard." 



26 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE SULTAN COMES TO TOWN 

A Philippine Reminiscence of 1900 

THE Sultan of Jolo has come to town — 

Do tell! 
The Sultan of Jolo has come to town — 
The Sultan of Jolo of great renown — 
And he's dressed like a general and walks like a clown 

As well. 

The Sultan of Jolo's a mighty chief — 

My word! 
The Sultan of Jolo's a mighty chief — 
(Don't call 'im a grafter or chicken-thief, 
For you'll surely come to your grief, 

If heard). 

The Sultan of Jolo's such a stride, 

And style! 
The Sultan of Jolo's such a stride, 
And his skin's the color of rhino hide, 
And he cheweth betel-nut beside: 

(Oh vile!) 

The Sultan of Jolo's a swell galoot — 

You bet. 
The Sultan of Jolo's a swell galoot, 
So we line the scorching streets and salute, 
("Presenting Arms" to the royal boot), 

And sweat. 
[27] 



ARMY BALLADS 



The Sultan of Jolo's a full-fledged king — 

I say! 
The Sultan of Jolo's a full-fledged king 
As down the regiment's front they swing, 
He and his Escort — wing and wing: 

Hurray! 

The Sultan of Jolo feels his weight, 

In truth. 
The Sultan of Jolo feels his weight 
As he marches by in regal state 
With Major Sour and all The Great, 

Forsooth. 

The Sultan proudly treads the earth 

With "cuz." 
The Sultan proudly treads the earth 
O'ershadowed by the Major's girth, 
But he knows just what the Major's worth: 

He does. 

The Sultan of Jolo's a haughty bun — 

(Don't quiz). 
The Sultan of Jolo's a haughty bun — 
An honest, virtuous gentleman — 
And he's rated high in Washington — 

He is. 

The Sultan of Jolo's a splendid bird — 

Whoopee! 
The Sultan of Jolo's a splendid bird, 

[28] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



But we in our ignorance pledge our word 
His asinine plumage is absurd 
To see. 

The Sultan and Major Sour are 

Such chums: 
The Sultan and Major Sour are 
So wrapped in love exceeding par, 
That war shall never war-time mar — 

— what comes. 

(The Sultan of Jolo guesseth right — 

Yo ho! 
The Sultan of Jolo guesseth right, 
As sure as daytime follows night, 
That Major Sour wouldn't fight: 

Lord — no!) 

The Sultan of Jolo is pretty wise — 

(And weeds). 
The Sultan of Jolo is pretty wise, 
In spite of innocent, bovine eyes, 
And the soothing tongue o' the Eastern skies 

And creeds. 

The Sultan of Jolo passeth by — 

Oh Lor'! 
The Sultan of Jolo passeth by, 
But we in the ranks can't wink an eye, 
Though we think we know the Reasons Why, 

And more. 
[29] 



ARMY BALLADS 



The Sultan of Jolo walketh flat — 

(Have a care!) 
The Sultan of Jolo walketh flat, 
But Nature's surely the cause of that; 
And he's salaried high — and sleek and fat — 

So there! 

The Sultan of Jolo laughs in glee — 

Why not? 
The Sultan of Jolo laughs in glee 
As his wages come across the sea 
From those who hate polygamy — 

God wot! 

Oh the Sultan of Jolo's gold and gilt — 

He is. 
Oh the Sultan of Jolo's gold and gilt, 
His chest and his sleeves and his good sword hilt, 
And he knows the lines on which are built — 

His biz. 



30! 



AND OTHER VERSES 



PHILIPPINE RANKERS 

CLEAR down the thin-thatched barrack-room 

The varying voices rise — 
The shrill New England teacher's — 

(The wisest of the wise) — 
And the Cowboy cleaning cartridges 

And telling fearful lies. 

The Bowery Boy is fast asleep 

Performing Bunk-fatigue, 
The Kid who simply can't keep still 

Is pounding through a jig, 
,And a plain darn fool just sits and sings 

And sneaks another swig. 

A bouncing bargain-counter clerk 

Dilates to Private Brown, 
The lordly top-notch swell he is 

When he is back in town, 
And the scion of an ancient name 

Just yawns and hides a frown. 

The mountain-riding Parson talks 

T' his Y. M. C. A. band, 
And mine Professor's turning Keats 

With hard and grimy hand, 
And Johnny's reading football news 

When baseball fills the land. 
[311 



ARMY BALLADS 



And some they pull together — 

And some won't gee at all — 
And some are looking for a fight 

And riding for a fall — 
And some, they ran from prison bars; 

And some, just heard The Call. 

And some are simply "rotters" — 

And some the Country's best: 
And some are from the cultured East — 

And some the sculptured West: 
And some they never heard of Burke — 

And some they sport a crest. 

("The Backbone of the Army" — 

"The Chosen of the Lord" — 
The Faithful of the Fathers — 

The Wielders of the Sword — 
The hired of the helpless — 

The bruisers and the bored.) 

The east-sides of the cities 

Are aye foregathered here; 
The best sides of the cities 

Are come from far and near, 
To mix their books and Bibles 

With oaths and rotten beer. 

Clear down the mud-browed, blood-plowed ranks 
The thin, tanned faces lift; 
[321 



AND OTHER VERSES 



The long, lean line that hears the whine 

Of the bamboo's silken sift, 
And the sudden rush and the chug and the hush 

Where the careless bullets drift. 

The Parson's up and shooting 

And cursing like a fool; 
The Bowery Boy is bleeding fast 

In a red and ragged pool; 
And mine Professor gags the wound — 

(Which he didn't learn in school). 



Nor creed nor sign nor order — 
Nor clan nor clique nor class: 

Never a mark to brand him 
As he chokes in the paddy grass: 

Only the tide of Bunker Hill, 
That ebbs, but may not pass. 



133] 



ARMY BALLADS 



DOBIE ITCH 

TELL about the fever 

And all y tropic ills, 
Tell about the cholera camp 

Over 'mong the hills; 
Tell about the small-pox 

Where the bamboos switch, 
But close y face and let me tell 

About the Dobie Itch. 

It isn't erysipelas — 

It isn't nettle-rash; 
It isn't got from eating pork, 

Or drinking native trash. 
You smear your toes with ointment, 

And think you're getting well, 
And then the damn thing comes again 

And simply raises hell. 

You've hiked all day in sun and rain 

Through hills and paddy mire, 
Abaft the slippery googoos 

Who shoot — and then retire: 
And now you've taken off your shoes 

And settled for a rest, 
When suddenly your feet they start 

To itch like all possessed. 
134] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



(Better take your socks off 
And then see how it goes. . . . 

"Ouch! m' bloody stockin's 
Stickin' to m* toes.") 

Scratching, scratching, scratching, 

Burning scab and sore, 
("Stop, you fool, you'll poison 'em!' 

Hear your bunkie roar). 
Never mind the poison — 

Ease the maddening pain, 
Till your poor old tired feet 

Start to bleed again. 

Tell about the fever 

And all y tropic ills, 
Tell about the cholera camp 

Over 'mong the hills; 
Tell about the small-pox 

Where the bamboos switch, 
But close y face and let me tell 

About the Dobie Itch. 



'351 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE SERVICE ARMS 

CLEAR from clotted Bunker Hill 

And frozen Valley Forge, 
To the Luzon trenches 

And the fern-choked gorge: 
All the Service — all the Arms — 

Horse and Foot and Guns — 
East and West who gave your best — 

Stand and pledge your Sons! 

The Infantry: 

As the Juggernaut slow rolls 
Ringing red with reeking tolls, 
Crushing out its Hindu souls 

In Vishnu's name: 
As the unrelenting tide 
Sweeps the weary wreckage wide, 
Bidding all men stand aside 

Or rue the game: 

Meeting front and flank and rear, 
Charge on charge with cheer on cheer, 
Where the senseless corpses leer 

Against the sun: 
Sure as fate and faith and sign 
I o'erwhelm them — they are mine; 
And I pause where weeps the wine 

Of battle won. 

[361 



AND OTHER VERSES 



The Artillery: 

As the slumbering craters wake, 
And the neighboring foot hills shake, 
As in shotted flame they break 

Athwart the sky: 
As the swollen streams of Spring 
Meet their river wing and wing, 
Till it sweeps a monstrous thing 

Where cities die: 

With a cold sardonic smile, 
At a range of half a mile, 
I — I lop them off in style 

By six and eights: 
As they come — their Country's best 
Like a roaring, seething crest, 
And I knock them Galley West 

Where Glory Waits. 

The Cavalry: 

As the tidal wave in spate 
Batters down the great flood gate 
Where the huddled children wait 

Behind the doors: 
As the eagle in its flight 
Sweeps the plain to left and right, 
Strewing carnage, wreck and blight 

And homeward soars: 

As the raging, wild typhoon, 
'Neath a white and callous moon, 
[371 



ARMY BALLADS 



Lifts the listless low lagoon 

Into the sea: 
In my tyranny and power 
I have swept them where they cower, 
I have turned the battle-hour 

To the cry of Victory 1 



381 



AND OTHER VERSES 



MY BUNKIE 

HE'S mostly gnarls and freckles and tan, 
He'd surely come under Society's ban, 
He's a swearing, righting cavalryman, 

But — he's my bunkie. 

He's weathered the winds of the Western waste — 
(Oh you, gentle Christian, would call him debased) — 
And he's loved at his ease and married in haste, 
Has my bunkie. 

In a Philippine paddy he's slept in the rain 
When he's drunk rotten beno that drives you insane: 
And he's often court-martialed — yes over again, 
Is my bunkie. 

He's been on a booze the whole blooming night 
To mount guard the next morning most awfully tight; 
Though he's "dressed" like a soldier when given "Guide right, 
Has my bunkie. 

He doesn't know Browning or Ibsen or Keats, 
But he knows mighty well when the other man cheats, 
And he licks him and makes him the laugh of the "streets"- 
Does my bunkie. 

He stands by and cheers when I'm having fun, 
And when it is over says "Pretty well done." 
Though he takes a large hand if they rush two to one, 
For — he's my bunkie. 
[391 



ARMY BALLADS 



When "Taps" has blown and all the troop sleep, 
We nudge each other and gingerly creep 
To there where the shadows hang heavy and deep, 
I and bunkie. 

And then when the fire-flies flittering roam, 
We sit close together out there in the gloam 
And talk about things appertaining to home, 
I and bunkie. 

If the sweet tropic fever is shrinking my spine, 
And they blow "Boots and Saddles" to chase the brown swine, 
He'll give me a leg-up and ride me in line, 
Will my bunkie. 

And if I get hit — his arm goes around, 

And raises me tenderly off of the ground, 

And the words on his lips are a comforting sound, 

The words on the lips of my bunkie. 



140] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE DOG-ROBBER 

IT'S anything but "Duty" — 

It's anything but work — 
It's sit with a pen in the sergeant's den 

And see what you can shirk. 

It's polish the first lieutenant's shoes 

And be the captain's "maid." 
It's something else than walking post, 

Or drill or dress parade. 

It's feet on a table and cigarettes 

When the men go out to groom, 
And the details pass through the paddy grass 

In the slough of the falling gloom. 

It's wearing four-inch collars 

When the troop is on the trail; 
It's strutting by with a haughty eye 

When rations start to fail. 

It's sitting safe in a guarded town 

With three square meals a day, 
When the rest are out on a stinking scout 

Some thirty miles away. 

It's digging deep with a doughty pen 

In a "casa" clean and dry, 
While the splash and thud in the six-months' mud 

Tells where the troop goes by. 

[41] 



ARMY BALLADS 



(While the heavy hush of the dawning day 

Lifts — amber, dun and red, 
And the palms look down on the nipa town 

To count the khaki dead.) 

(When the palms look down on his final gasp 

And they turn him to the sky — 
And the Captured stare through their matted hair 

To see how the strong can die.) 



It's being a damned civilian, 
Tiked out in blue and tan, 

When you came in to fight like sin 
And be a soldierman. 

For it's everything under heaven 

A Ranker shouldn't do; 
And even down to the rookie clown 

They scorn and laugh at you. 

It's anything but "duty" — 

It's anything but work — 
It's extra pay and an easy day, 

And shirk — shirk — shirk- 



[42 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE OLD SERGEANT 

WHEN I saw him he was sitting looking out across a valley — 
Fair and fertile — palm-bestudded — mountain-backed and 
green; 

But the strong gray eyes were weary, just a very trifle weary 
With the long, long years of service they had seen. 

And I kind of took it easy — spoke about the pleasant 
weather — 
And the landscape and the people and the ways; 
And the Service — I had seen it? — well just a little — 
poco — 
So that pronto it was drifting to the tale of other days. 

Santiago — Arizona — and Caloocan and the North Line — 
Palm and sage-brush — insurrecto — Espanol — Gero- 
nimo. . . . 
And the valley and the mountains doing splendid yeoman 
service 
For the shifting scenes of battle as I watched them come 
and go. 

Though more vivid than the valley — though more mighty 
than the mountains — 
Though more telling than "the telling" far — to me — 
Seemed the sun-seared wind-scarred visage and the unrelent- 
ing shoulders 
And mustache and hair awhitening like the combers out 
at sea. 

[431 



ARMY BALLADS 



But the watchful eyes and weary told the story yet more 
clearly, 
Alkali and cactus valley — transport — paddy — wind 
and rain — 
Riven, roweled, reformed and roaring — year on year through 
wait and warring — 
Lifting yet the faithful burning epochs slowly back again. 

Cease counting coin, Civilian, for just a little minute: 
Stop drilling Rookie — 'sperro — Attention there I say: 

Salute! . . . A Nation guarded stands while men like he 
are in it 
To lead a charge or check o. rus h or Ud e a turning day. 

And when the gold-laced brigadiers reflect the gleaming 
sunlight — 
When plumed and burnished aid-de-camps are clanging 
gaily by — 
Look where you see him — grim and straight, eyes 
front, unmoved and splendid — 
A mighty king in k^ a ki — against the morning sky. 



44 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE ROOKIE* 

HE carries his gun like a sack of wheat — 

He walks like a load of coal — 
When they give 'em "About" he prances on 

With an innocent off-shore roll: 
And "The Top" is willing to bet his pay 

That he hasn't any soul. 

When it comes "Right dress" he looks to the left 

With an asinine pose and face; 
And the captain swears and the colonel stares — 

To the company's large disgrace: 
And the officers' wives and daughters laugh — 

(Which never helps the case). 

He gets some hell at muster — 

He gets more hell at drill — 
He gets most hell on a bumpety horse 

Whenever he takes a spill: 
And he's sure to get hell if he talks in his sleep — 

(Oh yes, he most certainly will). 

I suppose they must have rookies, 
Though it's horribly hard to see. 
But wait. ... If there were no rookies, 

Just where would the Army be? 
And I guess one time the worst in the bunch 
Was asinine, awkward Me. 
' A new recruit 

[451 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE CRUEL AMERICAN SOLDIER 

IT'S hot and dry, and the tropic sky 

Is a sheet of burnished blue; 
And the paddies bare in the stifling air 

Have a sickening, saffron hue. 

And you ride along with never a song, 

With never a quip or jest; 
Through jungle and vale, o'er hill and dale, 

From valley to mountain crest. 

The parrots white in the dazzling light, 

Are screeching overhead, 
And the monkeys chaff and seem to laugh, 

And know you're nearly dead. 

And you've the blues as in "column of twos" 
Through the heat and dust you ride, 

No water's nigh, and your canteen's dry, 
And you're chiefly starved inside. 

But the day's nigh done, and the setting sun 

Sinks down in the China Sea, 
And the first faint breeze through the highest trees 

Is speaking to you and me. 

And soon we'll hear the balm to the ear, 
Of "Halt!" "Dismount!" and then — 

But what is this to spoil that bliss 
To the souls of tired men? 

[46] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



A body lies 'neath the twilight skies 

Just ahead beside the trail, 
And hacked and cut in a bloody rut 

Stares up in the daylight pale. 

Tis a fellow who (a bunkie to you) 

You had talked to in the morn; 
Now there he lay in the evening gray 

Cut mutilated and torn. 

A month on the trail will seldom fail 

To harden the soul of man, 
And a friend found dead with a grass-stuffed head, 

To soothe you — it hardly can. 

And the lizards mock in the growing dark, 

And the pale moon laughs in scorn, 
And the fevered sod bears the curse of God, 

And may claim you ere the morn. 

The earth seems black from front to back, 

"God's Country" is far away, 
Revenge is sweet, and here 'tis mete 

It should come ere another day. 

(ONE MONTH LATER.) 

And of course that's how they raised such a row, 

From 'Frisco to Boston-town, 
And the papers lied and the ladies cried 

For our "poor little brothers brown." 

[47] 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE ARMY GROWL 

OH beware of the cock that never crows, 

Of the bird without a song; 
Oh beware of the duck "^ never a quack — 

There is something radically wrong. 

Oh beware of the dog without a bark, 

Of the snake without a hiss — 
And — beware of the soldier without a growl — 

Above all remember this. 

He'll growl when he answers reveille, 
He'll growl when the lamps are lit, 

He'll growl when he has to groom his horse, 
He'll growl when he "strikes the grit." 

He'll growl 'cause the W. C. T. U. 

Have stolen his booze and beer, 
And he has to go to a native shack 

For "beno's" poison cheer. 

He'll growl when he's up to his knees in mud, 

In the paddy's sticky mire; 
He'll growl 'bout the "niggers" he has to chase 

'Neath the tropic's scorching fire. 

He'll growl in the rainy season when 

He's wet the live-long day, 
He'll growl if the weather's hot and dry, 

For the fever's holding sway. 

[48] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



He'll growl when he's in the "calaboose," 

For getting a little drunk; 
He'll growl at the government beans and slum, 

The java and spuds and punk. 

He'll growl at "the top" whom he doesn't love 

(And the captain on the side), 
He'll growl about inspections 

And the length of the water-ride. 



But — ■ he'll live on "emergency rations," 
Where the average man would die, 

Or hike all day in a tropic sun 
Though his throat is hot and dry. 

Or walk his post through the long wet night 
'Neath the gloom of the dripping palm, 

While the fever's burning his very soul, 
Though his face is set and calm. 

Yes — he'll charge 'neath a hotter fire than 
E'er welcomed the Light Brigade, 

And hold a trench with the easy grace 
Of militia on parade. 

Or 'tend to a wounded comrade who 
Has dropped with a shattered knee — 

(And at roll it's "Here" to Bunkie's name 
If Bunkie is on a spree). 
[49] 



ARMY BALLADS 



So give 'im his growl (but don't you howl), 

And let him whene'er he can, 
For he sure has enough to make him gruff - 

The Regular Army Man. 

Oh beware of the cock that never crows, 

Of the bird without a song; 
Oh beware of the duck with never a quack* 

There is something radically wrong. 

Oh beware of the dog without a bark, 

Of the snake without a hiss, 
And — beware of the soldier without a growl 

Above all remember this. 



50] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



A SOUTHERN PHILIPPINE GUARD 

DID you ever pike a post, 

When the morn was come almost, 
And that lonely light to eastward tells the dawning of the 
day? 

All the rest the world's asleep, 

And the shadows seem most deep, 
And the Moros of the southern isles turn Meccaward to pray. 

Southward toward Celebes, 

O'er the glassy tropic seas, 
You can almost smell the spices and the jungle odors rare; 

And from eastern Mindanao 

Down to little green Bongao 
Stately palms are gently swaying in the flower-scented air. 

And you're treading back and forth, 
Glancing west and south and north, 
And the faint lights to the eastward mark the mountains 
deeper gloom: 
While upon the coral beach, 
Twixt the parrots' rising screech, 
You can hear the steady cadence of the South Sea's surly 
boom. 

Where the outer shadows meet, 
You may hear the tom-tom's beat 
From a shack upon the hillside, or the beach a mile away; 

1511 



ARMY BALLADS 



In the West still reigns the night, 
In the East a pearly light 
Is proclaiming the approaching of another tropic day. 

And a hush is on your soul, 
And the warm sea's silent roll 
Bears you eastward, eastward, eastward, 'cross the leagues 
of swelling foam; 
For you seem to slowly rise, 
And transported through the skies, 
You are borne to "God's Country" — you are borne back 
to home. 

Back ten thousand miles to where 

Lies a green land over there, 
And the faces and the houses nod and beckon left and right — 

But a palm-limb's falling thud 

Checks your dream-enchanted blood — 
And the parrots screech more loudly, and the world is growing 
light. 



1521 



AND OTHER VERSES 



HIKING 

OH it's hiking, hiking, hiking — hiking the livelong day; 
And it's pouring, pouring, pouring from the heavens 
leaden gray; 
And it's eighty miles from quarters, and eight thousand miles 
from home; 
And you're hungry, wet and tired, and you roam, roam, 
roam. 



Two good feet deep the waters lie 

In the paddies soggy bare, 
And two miles high the floods come down 

Through the stifling tropic air. 

And two by two in dun and blue, 
With shoulders hunched and wet, 

The half -starved troopers sodden ride, 
On mounts more sodden yet. 

It's splash and thud and splash and thud, 

All down along the line, 
(Cold water's ooze in army shoes 

Is something very fine). 

No pipe will stand a pour like this, 

No bird dares sing a song, 
No cheerful sound can emanate 

From that line thin and long. 
[531 



ARMY BALLADS 



The damp winds sneak with sickly shriek 
Through clumps of bare bamboo, 

And the fire-tree ('twixt you and me) 
Is really rather blue. 

"Emergency ration" four days out 

Does fall a trifle flat, 
And the troop all swear it's chicken-food, 

That's made by Mr. Pratt. 

No booze in sight, no bunk in sight, 
No chew, no smoke, no sleep, 

And a bunch of "niggers" off a way, 
There in the jungle deep. 

They're slippery eels o' summer; 

They hate a krag or "gun," 
They stab behind (if they've the odds), 

And then they up and run. 

"Amigo" to your face, forsooth, 
Or when you spend the dough, 

But a red-hand "katipunan" when 
You turn around to go. 



A score of miles since early morn, 
The same ere close of night, 

A comrade's life to be avenged, 
A hate both just and right. 
[541 



AND OTHER VERSES 



A grumble and a look ahead, 

A "column right" or "left," 
A low bough hanging o'er the trail, 

A ducking quick and deft. 

The horse behind is splashing mud 

Right down your blooming neck, 
And a prickly branch has whipped your side 

And left your shirt a wreck. 

Ye gods! in truth, 'tis warfare this; 

No charge across a plain — 
Excitement of the moment 'midst 

The shouts of martial strain. 

But hunt, hunt, hunt, and plod, plod, plod, 

O'er the trail without an end, 
After the "insurrectos" — 

For that's the word they send 

From "The Palace" in Manila; 

They've clicked it o'er the wire, 
And we hit the trail and never fail 

To do as they desire. 

Oh it's hiking, hiking, hiking — hiking the livelong day; 
And it's pouring, pouring, pouring from the heavens leaden 
gray; 
And it's eighty miles from quarters, and eight thousand miles 
from home; 
And you're hungry, wet and tired, and you roam, roam, 
roam. 

[55] 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE NIGHT REST 

WHEN the first stars light and the gloom of night 

Falls over the paddies bare, 
When the lizards mock and the mongrels bark, 

And cooler grows the air — 

When the tropic heat has ceased to beat 

With vengeance fierce as fire; 
And the swaying palm in the growing calm 

Has lulled your tepid ire. 

When you hear the munch and the steady crunch 

Of the horses grazing near; 
And the rhythmic tread like muffled lead 

Of the sentry's pacing drear — 

When you hit the trail till the last lights fail; 

And you know you've earned a rest; 
When the chill night air o'er paddies bare 

Makes blankets doubly blest — 

And the evening breeze — with head at ease 

In a saddle's sunken seat — 
And you watch afar and greet each star 

As a friend — old, loved, discreet — 

When each bright light in the vaulted night 

Looks down on your fevered face: 
When you forget the day's regret, 

And your hate for the island race — 
[561 



AND OTHER VERSES 



When the monkey's speech and the parrot's screech 

Is hushed till another day; 
When the East is black where the bamboos crack, 

And the West has a streak of gray. . . . 

Oh the soothing balm and the quiet calm 

Of the glorious star-strewn shore; 
And a little space, by Night's good grace, 

From the scenes of a tropic war. 



157! 



ARMY BALLADS 



MAIL-DAY IN THE PHILIPPINES 

CLATTER, clatter, nearer, nearer, 
Comes the sound of horses' feet 

From Manila-way ahastening, 
Down the dusty village street. 

Why from quarters, shacks and stables, 
Why from near and far away, 

Stream the soldiers shouting welcome 
To the rider, dusty gray? 

E'en the cook lets drop the ladle, 

Handle first into the slum; 
E'en the sick rise on their elbows 

When those clattering hoof -beats come. 

E'en the commissary sergeant, 

Quick forgetting troubles all, 
Drops "invoices" and "returns," and 

Comes arunning at the call. 

While across the way the captain, 
From his quarters looking o'er, 

Seems impatiently awaiting, 
Pray what is he looking for? 

Stoops the rider from his saddle, 
Throwing down a canvas bag, 

Stained and dirty, striped and lettered, 
"U. S. Mail" (the blessed rag). 

(581 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Then the troop-clerk, ostentatious, 

Opens up the bag and then, 
Crowding round him breathless, noiseless, 

Surge a silent sea of men. 

Standing shoulder rubbing shoulder, 
Upturned faces anxious drawn, 

Listening for their names and watching 
'Till the last white missive's gone. 

Next a scatt'ring back to quarters, 
Where the bunks are promptly "hit," 

Then an opening of the letters, 
Which a month ago were writ. 

"Broncho" Bill with index finger 
Runs along each precious line, 

And a smile is softly growing 
O'er those features rough as pine. 

And "the Kid" has got a photo 

That he's eyeing awful well, 
'Tis a picture of — oh really, 

It is hardly fair to tell. 

Private Brown — 'tween slow-turned pages 
Stares beyond the paddied line: 

But the blood-pride of the ages 
Chokes the rising outer sign. 
1591 



ARMY BALLADS 



Sergeant Smith, an old campaigner, 
Shows with pride a golden curl 

To his bunkie, speaking husky, 
"From my precious little girl." 

Thompson has a box of candy, 

And his popularity 
(Which was never much to brag of) 

Has developed wonderfully. 

"Bowery Pete" quite freely tells you 
He's a letter from his "goil;" 

And he'd like to put you next that 
She is sure a little "poil." 

Little Johnson's reading closely, 
Little Johnson's eves are wet, 

Now he's staring out the window. 
And his look is sort of set. 

Some are laughing, some are eating, 
Some are reading, some are glad, 

Some are talking, some are singing, 
Some — well, some look kind of bad 



601 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE BOSOBOSO TRAIL 

ASK the men of "I" troop, 

Ask the men of "L," 
How they struck the rugged trail 

When the twilight fell. 

White and clear the stars shone 

In the coming night; 
Westward o'er Manila 

Lingered yet the light. 

News of trouble spreading 
'Cross the mountains fast, 

Treacherous Bosoboso 
Is the culprit last. 

Stable, horse and saddle, 
Spur and carbine stout; 

Antipolo watching 
As the troops ride out. 

Black the night falls faster, 
Black the mountains rise, 

And the forest shutting 
Out the star-flecked skies. 

Know ye tropic jungles, 

When the sun is set, 
And the gloom lies heavy, 

Stifling, black and wet? 
[61J 



ARMY BALLADS 



In the light of noon-day 
Troopers curse and rail 

At the bough-hung, winding 
Bosoboso trail. 

In the jungle nightfall 
Naught the eye may see, 

Shelving rock and gulley, 
Root and bough of tree. 

This the men of "I" troop, 
And the men of "L," 

Of the good Fifth Cavalry 
Struck as evening fell. 

And dismounting, each one 
Slowly led a horse, 

Grasping tail of one ahead - 
Plunging o'er the course - 

Forefeet tramping on you 
When the column stops; 

Weary sockets straining 
When it forward rocks. 

If you lose your leader — 
If your footing fail — 

Lost the column plunges 
From the inky trail. 
[621 



AND OTHER VERSES 



In a gloom where owls might 
Hardly hope to see; 

Stumbling, crashing over 
Rock and fallen tree. 

'Midst the fevered blackness 
Of the jungle's heart; 

From all human feelings 
Torn far apart. 

Plunging mad and weary, 
Bruised and full of hate; 

Knowing, caring little 
Where the "umbres" wait. 

Cursing "insurrectos," 
And the lights that fail- 

Cursing low and stoutly 
Bosoboso's trail. 

Bosoboso's broken trail, 

When the sun is set, 
And the shades lie heavy, 

Reeking, black and wet. 



63 



ARMY BALLADS 



PHILIPPINE TWILIGHT 

SLOWLY the sun is sinking, 
Slowly the lights grow dim; 

Slowly down in the tropic sea 
Droppeth the burning rim. 

Slowly the farther islands 
Melt in the mellow maze; 

Slowly out on the whitened walls 
The lizards creep to gaze. 

Slowly the snowy parrots 
Sweep to their jungle rest. 

Slowly the gold and crimson 
Fade in the darkening west. 

Slowly the tasseled palm leaves 
Sway in the evening breeze. 

Slowly the old familiar stars 
Rise o'er the tallest trees. 

Slowly the hike and skirmish, 
Fever and burning days, 

Treachery, hate and malice, 
Melt in the evening haze. 

Slowly the Visions wander 

Over the alien sea — 
Faces and towns and rivers; 

Known to you and me. 
[641 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Slowly they nestle with us, 
There in the tropic night; 

Strengthening, soothing, helping, 
Seeing our three-fold fight. 

Slowly the flaming fire-tree 
Turns to a sombre pine. 

Slowly the purple clusters 
Grow on the barren vine. 

Slowly the distant parrots — 
Specks in the darkening sky — 

Melt into homing swallows, 
Over the jungle high. 

Slowly the rice-grown paddies, 
Wave with the western wheat. 

Slowly the scent of violets 
Sweetens the humid heat. 

Slowly the clouds rose-tinted 
Change to the faces we 

Left in a white man's country, 
Over the ashen sea. 

Slowly the lingering lilac 
Fades in the western sky: 

Heavy the stifling gloom falls — 
Night — and the Visions die. 



65 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE BENO CURSE 

FOUR we held the lurching litter: 
Five they held him in his place: 

Dark and crimson, wild and fighting, 
Bloody eyes and bloated face. 

" 'Nother case," the surgeon muttered, 

When they lifted him abed. 
Just the "Barbary Coast" of 'Frisco — 

Just a taste of "Dago Red." 

Up the transport's ladder struggling, 
Four to one they slip and slide. 

Two steps up, and one returning, 
Bumping 'gainst the vessel's side: 

Filled with Nagasaki "sake" — 
Swearing, cursing, sweating cold — 

Knotted muscles, purple, straining, 
Roped and thrown down the hold. 

We have seen the Curse of Nations, 
'Bove and 'neath the sweltering Line - 

Lilac, crimson, white and amber, 
Dark and murky, crystal fine. 

Juices of the bulb and berry, 
Where the jungle flower grows: 

Blood of palms, slow-tapped and silent, 
Where the phosphor ocean glows. 
[661 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Juices of the grain and vineyard, 
Sweet and bitter, dark and light; 

Where the Dipper arches northward, 
Pale and shining, fair and white. 

But in Beno's grip imprisoned — 
Water-colored, harmless, clear — 

We have seen the strong men sinking, 
Month by month and year by year. 

We have seen the bronzed campaigner, 
We have seen the beardless cheek, 

Earn the eyes that lack the lustre, 
Lose the lips that mark the weak. 

We have seen the hands of giants 
Tremble like a child with chills, 

Till, befuddled, wan and wandering, 
Crazed, they sought the silent hills. 

Yes, we know them east and westward, 
Amber, crimson, white and clear: 

Yes, we've seen the fiends incarnate 
Lift the burning levels near: 

But, we've watched the silent sinking, 
Day by day the seasons through; 

We have seen the slow damnation: 
Beno, here's a health to you! 



67] 



ARMY BALLADS 



SOMEONE'S GOT A MANDOLIN 

(PHILIPPINE TRANSPORT BALLAD) 

SOMEONE'S got a mandolin — over by the rail: 
Jolly little tinkler tal\s most surprising plain: 

"You've done your wor\ — in fact — done it rather well; 
And now you're really honest truly going home again." 

Dusk is slowly settling and we're loafing on the deck, 
Looking most contented out across the leaden sea. 

Duty done and getting dark — (rather dark for cards) — 
And just a line of lazy smoke arolling by the lee. 

Someone's got a mandolin — over by the rail: 

(Funny how a mandolin can search a soldier's soul): 

Kind of up and talks to you when day begins to fail, 
And you're heading homeward on the long Pacific roll. 

Someone's got a mandolin — over by the rail: 
Tinkling of the days behind — the skirmish in the rain — 

Soggy paddies full of rice and nipa shacks and palms — 
"Humbres" given to the ants and "humbres" you've slain. 

Someone's got a mandolin — over by the rail: 

Seems to sort of sing along with flying-fish and foam: 
Kind of makes you blink a bit — (it's cinders from the 
stack) — 
And jingles mighty plainly of the people over home. 
[68] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Someone's got a mandolin — over by the rail: 

Jolly little mandolin — crazy little soul: 
Says the salt air's eating out the fever in our bones — 

Mustn't mind at lacking thirty pounds o' being whole. 

Someone's got a mandolin — over by the rail: 
Singing we're heading east to where God's Country lies: 

Laughing we'll fatten-up on tenderloin and milk, 
Canvasback and terrapin, batter-cakes and pies. 

Someone's got a mandolin — over by the rail: 

Plaintive little mandolin — sort o' soft and low — 

Says in just a little while we'll see 'em all again — 
Mustn't fret because the transport's running rather slow. 

("Mustn't fret, no mustn't fret," — the flying-fish reply, 
"Though you left him buried there behind the bare bam- 
boo": 

"Mustn't fret, no mustn't fret" — the little white-caps cry, 
"But gulp it down and think about the ones awaiting you.") 

Someone's got a mandolin — over by the rail: 

Laughing up the leaden lift and sighing down the roll — 

Other days and other ways— ahead, astern, adrift — 
Is it wood and strings or has the chubby thing a soul? 

Someone's got a mandolin — over by the rail- 
Jolly little tinkler talks most surprising plain: — 

"You've done your work. — in fat — done it rather well; 
And now you're really honest truly going home again!" 



[69J 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE ISLANDS' HAND 

FIVE thousand miles they've left them 
O'er phosphor-streaking ocean; 
Five thousand miles of rollers, 

And flying-fish and whale; 
And gulls around the topmast 
And sharks around the rudder — 
And sixteen days of steaming 

With never sight of sail. 

Two years — or five — or twenty 
This side the sunset ocean; 
Two years — or five — or twenty 

They've left the Islands' care. 
Men call them hale and hearty — 
And laugh about the Islands; 
(Men laugh about the Islands 

Who've never soldier'd there.) 

Men call them "health's reflection," 
And joke of their "excursion," 
For they're strong and hardy 

And lift the hours through. 
Though of those who've trailed the Islands 
With the fever eating inward, 
They're little asking sympathy 

Of little thinking you. 
[70] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



But the Islands' hand is on them, 
(Be the cycles two or twenty — 
And the span of buffer ocean 

Five thousand miles between); 
When the days are running lightest — 
And life is worth the living, 
The Islands' hand descendeth — 

Dull-throbbing — sharp and keen. 

Unpensioned — undesiring — 
They're smiling in your faces; 
They're jesting, dancing, laughing — 

With the old ache burning there. 
It will lift — mayhap — to-morrow — 
To return when unexpected; 
To return when least desired, 

Just to smite you unaware. 

Five thousand miles of ocean, 
And the buffer years arolling, 
And the silent seasons waking 

In the Land of Little Care: 
Men call them hale and hearty — 
And laugh about the Islands: 
(Men laugh about the Islands 

Who've never soldier'd there.) 



71 



ARMY BALLADS 



"TAPS" 

WE'VE heard it in the mountains, 

We've heard it in the vale, 
We've heard it in the times of peace, 

And when the war-dogs trail. 
We've heard it in the jungle, 

We've heard it on the snows, 
We've heard it — yes — 'most everywhere, 

And we love it — God knows. 



We've heard it, and it stood for 

A little rest and sleep, 
When the twinkling sentries overhead 

Their "post" and "orders" keep. 
When the great war-god Orion 

Looked down from out the night, 
And bade us think of those at home 

Beneath another light. 

We've heard it when we bivouacked 

Behind the day's alarm: 
We've heard it when we buried him 

Beneath the tropic palm: 
We've heard it on the transport, 

We've heard it on the plain, 
We've heard it in the islands 

'Midst the fever and the rain. 
[721 



AND OTHER VERSES 



We've heard it — and the ringing 

Down through the countless years, 
Will take us back to war and strife, 

To love and joy and tears. 
And when the Last Great Muster 

Shall find us on the roll, 
We hope they're blowing Taps again — 

To speed a soldier's soul. 



73 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE REGULAR CAVALREE 

EYES and ears of the army, 

Galloping wild and free, 
Feelers and nerves of the central head, 
Muddy and swearing and spattered red 
With blood of the wounded and dying and dead, 
The Regular Cavalree, Hurrah! 
The Regular Cavalree! 

Flanking the battery's belching blaze, 

Crash! and the gunners flee: 
Then — off — and away we go — 
Down on the infantry's flank we blow — 
Pistol and sabre laying them low — 
The Regular Cavalree, Hurrah! 
The Regular Cavalree! 

Watch the troop-train passing by, 

Up from the port of the sea; 

Down like the eagle in swiftest flight — 

Sweeping the plain in our gallant might, 

And the enemy curse for their fast to-night — 

The Regular Cavalree, Hurrah! 

The Regular Cavalree! 

Dripping palm and tropic sun, 

(Remembered by you and me), 
Riding the trails we learned to hate — 
[74] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



"Emergency Rations" ten days straight — 
And the fever that cometh soon or late — 
To the Regular Cavalree, Hurrah! 
The Regular Cavalree! 

Pennsylvania Avenue, 

The Great Man's escort we; 
Polished and clanking and looking our best, 
Cursing the work for a beastly pest; 
The pride of the Nation are riding abreast - 
The Regular Cavalree, Hurrah! 
The Regular Cavalree! 



[75; 



ARMY BALLADS 



GENERAL NELSON A. MILES* 

MIGHTY scribes of inky prowess, mighty generals of the 

pen, 
From your fortress desks ye've hurtled, 'gainst a splendid 

man of men, 
All your quips and shafts of laughter, all your venom small 

and mean, 
To amuse a certain public, slandering, but yet unseen. 

When ye fed upon a bottle, when ye walked the city street, 
When ye lived in ease and comfort, speeding pleasure's hours 

fleet, 
When ye led the light cotillon, when ye ate three times a day, 
When at dinner, ball and opera ye were fritting hours away, 

He was fighting where the slaughter of a brothers' war ran 

high, 
On those crimson fields of horror, 'neath a sunny southern 

sky. 
He was chasing the Apache 'cross the choking khaki plain, 
In the land of rock and sage-brush, alkali and little rain. 

He — as the commanding general — in his later honored 

days, 
Held the rank, but hampered ever — snub and censure — 

seldom praise. 

* On his retirement. 

[761 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Misdemeanor or dishonor at his door was never Iain, 
But ye dig your quills the deeper, shrieking, "Vain! Ambi- 
tious! Vain!" 

Ask the brown and hardened trooper dating back to Wounded 

Knee, 
Ask the old who fought in '60, ask the young across the sea. 
They will answer, for they know him — tempered, tested, 

tried and true — 
Honor to his flag and nation, and the blood-bathed army 

blue. 



[771 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE EX-SOLDIER'S TRIP BACK 

FIVE thousand miles from the latest styles, 
And the grind and the thumping roar, 

And the lucre race and the thin-souled face, 
And the lust of more and more. 

Five thousand miles, where the shack-topped piles 

Stand out in the open bay: 
And the fish traps reach from the coral beacn 

To the up-coast current's sway. 

We'll go again to the sun and rain — 
To the flood and the river drouth — 

To the broken seas and the scented breeze — 
And the Cross in the vaulted south. 

In the darkened gloom of the jungle tomb, 
Where the fern-crotched giants spread — 

And the trailing vine and the branches twine 
We'll waken the echoes dead. 

We'll answer the screech of the parrot's speech — 

And the ape in the highest limb; 
As he swings in the air we scarcely care 

To scorn or pity him. 

We'll lie in the sift of the sandy drift 
Where the beach is white and wide; 

Stark naked there in the soothing air 
By the wash of the pearl-flecked tide. 

[78] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



We'll laugh in ease as the tasseled trees 

Throw shadows across the sand — 
We'll shout in glee to the dancing sea, 

And the hours out-of-hand. 

We'll ride the trails when the sunset fails 

'Twixt the isles of the farther west; 
And the clumped bamboo that the winds sift through 

As they lag from the highest crest. 

We'll scent the must of the paddies' dust — 

(Remembering labors old) — 
We'll feel the heat of the village street 

When the skies are copper-gold. 

When the day is done we'll watch the sun 

Sink down in a gilded sea; 
And the saffron sky fade out and die 

And the crimson embers flee. 

While the lizards mock in the sultry dark 

From under the nipa eaves, 
We'll laugh again with the homeless men, 

Ere the north-bound mail-boat leaves. 

When the lights are low and the phosphor glow 

Is washing the outer piers — 
We'll gaze afar o'er the wave-kissed bar, 

And dream of the distant years. 
[79] 



ARMY BALLADS 



The former days and the former ways — 
And the strong and the weak we knew — 

Each little thing the old sights bring 
With the soft Trades sifting through. 

The last lights fail o'er the well-known trail: 

We'll see it all again 
Through the crowding years of smiles and tears, 

The blue and the white-clothed men: 

(The month-long chase of the island race 

That stab by dark and fly, 
The running fight and the watching night 

And the shadows gliding by.) 

The sough of the trees in the evening breeze — 

The distant tom-tom's beat — 
The chill of the rain on the rice-soaked plain, 

And the stench of the village street. 

We'll walk once more on the coral shore, 
'Neath the blaze of the copper skies: 

We'll hear again the weird refrain 
Where the shack in the palm grove lies. 

We'll live the ways of the yesterdays — 

Each sound and scent and sight: 
Though cynics deride, we are satisfied 

Our choice is made aright. 



[80] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



MAJOR SOUR 

IF any doubt this little tale, 

Some several hundred men, 
Ascattered through this lovely land 

Will prove the writer's pen. 

Once in the far-famed Philippines, 
When war was sometimes rife, 

There reigned an army officer, 
Who dearly loved his life. 

He held a little four-walled town, 
And kept it neat and clean: 

But when the soldiers hit the hills — 
His Grace was seldom seen. 

Now Major Sour was a man 
Large-bellied, bold and grand; 

With whiskers white and haughty mien 
That spake, "I rule the land." 

He regulated what should be 

The market-price of fruit: 
Which way the inside gate-guard faced 

When making his salute. 

(And let us pause to here remark, 

With no equivocations, 
His law upon the latter was 

Opposed to "Regulations.") 
[811 



ARMY BALLADS 



He worried lest a Moro kid 
Should 'neath his jacket hold 

A mango knife — or opium. 
For Chinos bad and bold. 

He toadied to the Sultan 
Lest any harm draw near — 

And bound poor little Jolo down 
From land-gates to the pier. 

He fretted lest the weeds should grow 

Within the flowered park. 
And had his vigilantes guard 

His doorsteps after dark. 

And if a Moro, through the wall, 
Stood looking rather grim, 

Three companies and gatlings twain 
Were straightway hurled at him. 

But when the soldiers left the town, 

He kept behind a guard; 
And trembling (for his army's fate), 

He paced Headquarter's yard. 

Oh Major Sour, when we stop 
To think of you — we're fain 

To hold our splitting sides with mirth, 
And laugh and laugh again. 



[82; 



AND OTHER VERSES 



ARMY BEANS 

YOU may dilly-dally knife and fork 
In delicacies delicious, 
And in pate, duck and terrapin and know if they're right. 
You may criticise — expostulate — 
And fidget with your oysters, 
While yearning dishes for a satiated appetite. 

Army Beans? *0h they're vulgar — 
Pos-i-tive-ly really common — 
In fact they're most plebeian — if you hanker for the truth. 
So very inexpensive, 
And the recipe is simple; 
For they bake and ship 'em 'round the world to feed the 
Great Uncouth. 



Well, dicker with your "delicacies" — 
Of course, you're welcome to 'em — 
But sometimes when it seems to me I kind o' want a "feed": 
I go and order army beans — 
A soup-plate full and brimming — 
And — if you think it dreadful — why you needn't look, 
indeed. 

They're brown and plump and steaming — 
They're luscious, large and lovely — 
And the restaurant and waiters slowly melt and fade away: 

[831 



ARMY BALLADS 



And a hazy shadow's rising 
Like a mirage on the ocean — 
It's a palm grove gently bending o'er a coral-bitten 
bay. 

And the flying-fish are flitting 
In and out the rainbow waters, 
And the beach is white and gleaming 'neath an empty purple 
sky: 
And the tasseled fronds are droning 
Through the endless end-world stillness, 
'Till the night-wind's weary wailing wakes the tom-tom's 
deep reply. 

'Till the yellow grass is rustling 
With the feet of fifty horses — 
'Till fifty weary troopers drop from fifty weary backs: 
And fifty hungry, munching mouths, 
(Just barring-out the sentries), 
Are stuffed and crammed with army beans exuding from the 
cracks. 

Yes — they've stood us rather handy 
In the lurching transport galley: 
Yes — they've stood us rather neatly — 'neath the fern- 
crotched jungle trees: 
On mountain trail, in paddy vale, 
And through the shack-rimmed alley; 
In cholera camp and bivouac, where falls the fevered 
breeze. 

1841 



AND OTHER VERSES 



They've sought the deepest crevices — 
Tween ribs we saw and counted: 
Though vulgar, coarse and common they've backed us in a 
need: 
And the flavor and the savor 
Sort o' bring a funny quaver — 
And I think as no one's looking — I'll sneak in a while and 
"feed." 



[MJ 



ARMY BALLADS 



BUGLES CALLING 

UP above the roaring traffic — 

Where the caverns rise — 
Shrill and piercing, clear and cutting, 

Through the smoky skies — 
Bugles calling, bugles calling, 

Over land and sea — 
Bugles calling, calling, calling, 

Bugles calling me. 

Little men and little madness — 

Sordid greed and gain — 
Till we hear the bugles leaping 

Down the asphalt lane: 
Till the reeking towers vanish 

And the winds waft free, 
Bugles calling, calling, calling, 

Bugles calling me. 



Once again familiar faces 

Beckon o'er the ways; 
Once again with stirrups touching 

Ride the yesterdays. 
Olden friends and love and laughter 

Proved sincerity. . . . 
Bugles calling, calling, calling, 

Bugles calling me. 
[86J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Once again the trails are burning 

'Neath a tropic sun: 
Once again the plains are baking 

Where no rivers run: 
Once again the old ambitions 

Whisper longingly. . . . 
Bugles calling, calling, calling, 

Bugles calling me. 

Once again the vine-choked jungle 

'Bove the swollen stream — 
Once again the silken rustle 

Where the bamboos gleam: 
Once again the snowy coral 

Laughing by the sea. . . . 
Bugles calling, calling, calling, 

Bugles calling me. 

Once again the running skirmish 

'Neath the mid-day glare: 
Once again the midnight mountains 

When the fires flare: 
Once again the careless columns 

Laughing wearily. . . . 
Bugles calling, calling, calling, 

Bugles calling me. 

By the high-hoped days behind us — 

By the years we knew — 
By the heart-whole life they lent us, 

Ringing fair and true. . . . 

[8; ] 



ARMY BALLADS 



Bugles calling, bugles calling, 

Over land and sea — 
Bugles calling — calling — calling 

Bugles calling me. 



:«8j 



AND OTHER VERSES 



HEROES 

HERE and there and everywhere — 

Ever the story's told: 
By pen and tongue their song is sung, 

As is your wont of old 
Your wont is good — though ye forget 

The nameless manifold. 

But the off-shore breeze of the silent seas 
Is whispering through the night; 

And if you list to the tree-tops' tryst — 
And if you hear aright — 

You'll learn again through the wind and rain 
The tale of the distant fight. 

You'll know once more the cannons' roar 
And the flare of the long lean guns: 

You'll watch them fall by the outer wall 
Where the red-choked river runs: 

You'll see them die as the lines roar by — 
The bravest of our sons. 

Go where the sage-brush dots the plain 

White-parched with alkali — 
And the thin coyote and the tumbled rock 

And the burning copper sky — 
To Apache and Comanche who 

Can show you where they lie. 
189] 



ARMY BALLADS 



Go skirt the East to the outer isles, 
And the blaze of the fire-tree — 

And the swaying palm and the coral beach 
And the lift of the flame-streaked sea — 

To where the bare bamboos stand guard 
Through all eternity. 

By rock-bound plain and heat-bound trail 
And the stench of the paddies' mire; 

By blizzard blast and blazing sun, 
And the tropic's fevered fire — 

Unmarked they lie beneath the sky, 
To prove The Strong Desire. 



1901 



AND OTHER VERSES 



AN EXILE 

HE'S looking out across the bay 

Where the sunset fires fail — 
He's staring far behind the hills 

Beyond the Outer Pale — 
He's put his world behind him in 

The East-bound steamer's trail. 

The fetid heat — the fetid life — 

The fetid fever too — 
The long checked paddy stretches, 

And the quivering dome of blue — 
The creeping carabao sledge, 

And the shacks of split bamboo. 

He cannot tell the Occident 

The feeling of the East. 
He can't describe the deathly calm 

When every wind has ceased 
And the lizards crawl through the nipa wall 

To snatch their living feast. 

He can't describe the stillness 

Of the endless tropic day. 
He's 'most forgotten there's a land 

Where people really pray. 
He only knows the brazen heat 

And the careless, calm dismay. 
1911 



ARMY BALLADS 



The parrots mock him overhead — 

The lizards 'neath the eave — 
The fever calls him for her own — 

(She never will deceive) — 
And the days are months and the months are years 

That scorn the last reprieve. 



Then — if you have a soul at all 
And if you ever Care — 

And if you have a little time — 
(Which you can surely spare) - 

For God's sake drop a letter to 
An exile over there. 



[921 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE MACHINE GUN 

I'M watching how the gallant lines 
Come bravely forging forward: 
I gurgle with the gunner filling breech and taking sight: 
And when the long flat fronts appear 
At just the proper distance, 
They let me loose — and none go back to boast about the 
fight. 

I'm spitting through the tropic gloom — 
The fever-laden stillness — 
I hew the lean, swarth runners down behind the bare bam- 
boo. . . . 
I strew them thick across the deck 
In reeking, writhing torture, 
And stop the final struggles with an extra shot or two. 

I'm landing with the first marines — 
They couldn't do without me — 
I open up an alley from the water to the town. 
I clear the roofs and gates and walls — 
No hidden hole escapes me — 
And then I take a breath and watch the Colors coming down. 

I'm sweeping o'er the charging plain — 
The brave and young and careless — 
I drop them gently over like the grass beneath the scythe. . . 

[931 



ARMY BALLADS 



I'm shrieking down the fighting-tops 
To catch the hidden gunners, 
For the demon blood is in me and I love to see them die. 

I'm choking up the narrow pass — 
The narrow pass before me — 
Awhile the pallid peaks peer down in horror and dismay: 
Leonidas and every band 
In history or in story, 
They could not hold the red defile as I have done to-day. 

The loosened rock, the boomerang, 
The sword and lance and arrow — 
The dagger, pike and hand-grenade — the arquebus and 
gun — 
I trace a lineage long and proud 
That man has hewn for me — 
And now I stand the Lord of War, blood-reeking 'neath the 
sun. 



94j 



AND OTHER VERSES 



REGULAR AND MILITIAMAN* 

THE MILITIAMAN SPEAKS 

YOU'RE really most unpolished and 

You seem a trifle tough; 
Your ways are not the ways of us — 

You're rather brief and bluff. 
Your uniform is awfully plain — 

Your campaign hat's a sight — 
Your leggings they are washed until 

You've bleached 'em nearly white. 

And some of you tobacco chew! 

And smoke and drink and swear! 
And sit a horse or caisson just 

As if you "didn't care." 
You lack the really proper stride, 

And cut and dress and style — 
And seldom (but among yourselves) 

You speak or joke or smile. 

THE REGULAR ANSWERS 

Yes Handsome Harry with your stride 

And military air — 
Your waving plume and corded coat, 

And trousers pressed with care; 

* It should be superfluous to add that a well drilled, well equipped, 
adequate Militia is, in the absence of a large standing army, a most necessary 
and valuable adjunct to a nation. 

[951 



ARMY BALLADS 



Your well-provisioned summer camp, 

For ladies' lavish praise — 
Or prancing aft a braying band 

Adown the curb-stoned ways. 

Perhaps we are a little tanned — 

A little careless too — 
Perhaps you've said a trifle that 

Is really rather true; 
But come with us and live with us, 

And march and laugh and cry; 
And joke with us and hate with us, 

And fight and starve and die. 

Come where the same low rolling plains, 

The same old sky lines meet; 
The same old rock and sage-brush hide 

The same old gila's feet; 
The same coyote's nerve-piercing note, 

When the copper skies turn blue; 
And the same parade and guard and drill, 

The long long seasons through. 

Come where beneath the dripping palms 

The stinking marshes rise; 
Across the trampled paddies 'neath 

The burning tropic skies. 
Beyond the farther ocean when 

The lines of phosphor glow — 
To where the pale and mighty Cross 

Reflects the southern snow. 
[96] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



To where the careless combers o'er 

The coral caverns roll; 
To where the fetid fever burns 

Your head and heart and soul. 
To where the laws of God and man — 

Of truth and faith and right — 
Are churned with Asian guilt and guile, 

Starvation, march and fight. 

If you would up and go with us 

Across the sunset sea — 
If you would taste a bit of it 

With careless, candid We; 
If you would buckle-up with us 

In mud and alkali — 
You'd learn a soldier s answer, and — 

You'd \novo the reasons why. 



[97] 



PART TWO 

NEW VERSES 



[99J 



PEACE 

THEY say, Oh Sphinx, you hold concealed 

The secrets of the World, 
Since first beside the Tigris' flood 

The life of lives unfurled. 
They say, Oh Sphinx, to give to man 

Your word were blasphemy — 
But I implore one splendid truth 

Shall stand revealed to me. 

Across Time's boundless horizon 

I see the red-flamed skies — 
I see the locked battalions 

Of all the Nations rise; 
I watch the wounded writhing — 

I hear the cannons' roar — 
And I ask you, Ever dawns the day 

Man shall not go to war? 

A hush fell o'er the desert, 

Where it dipped into the sun 
In endless undulations 

Of gold and rose and dun. 
A hush fell o'er the fertile green 

Where swept the swelling Nile, 
And slow the graven, haughty face 

Lit with a languid smile. 
11011 



ARMY BALLADS 



The lips that through the centuries 

Had never deigned to speak, 
Quivered a moment pityingly 

In honor to the weak. 
The mouth that through the ages 

Had never uttered word, 
Moved for a hesitating space 

And opened — and I heard. 

"Little waif of a wanton world 

But a world of wondrous worth, 
Go tell my secret West and East 

To the Men of all the Earth. 
Go tell my tale from North to South 

Till Pole and Pole shall meet — 
To the primal savage 'neath the palm 

And the one in the city street. 

"When God Almighty cooled the Earth 

And saw the hardened crust, 
He stooped Him down and raised Him up 

A little mound of dust. 
And to that dust He lent His breath, 

And straightway it arose 
Clay of the clay but bent alway 

In the mode that the Maker chose. 

"Human it grew 'neath the Master's view 
Human it learned and taught; 

Human it climbed and human it fell, 
And — human it loved and fought. 

r 102 1 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Human it lived and human it died 

And human it came again, 
Begging a dole at the Sovereign's door — 

And seldom it asked in vain. 

"Human it felt the strength and need 

Of welding friend and friend; 
And forthwith mighty Nations rose — 

As They will unto the end. 
And human They grew 'neath the Master's view 

Units from units fraught — 
And human They climbed and human They fell, 

And — human They loved and fought. 

"When the lights go out in the Pleiades — 

When the Moon is a mound of snow; 
When the desert blooms with the crimson rose 

And the Nile has ceased to flow — 
When the Pyramids fall stone and stone 

And float to a waiting sea — 
When God or man shall ever hear 

Again the voice of me: 

"When you have crushed the beating heart 

And brain and pulse and soul — 
When you have mangled love and truth, 

And blotted out the whole; 
When sightless, spineless, unicelled 

Amcebas you become, 
A waiting World will wake to greet — 

The Great Millennium." 

[1031 



ARMY BALLADS 



Slowly the gray Mohakkam Hills 

Sank in their bed of green; 
Slowly the western skies swept high, 

An amethyst tinted screen: 
Slowly the broad Sahara waves 

Died in a blaze of gold — 
And the terrible Sphinx rose sear and dark, 

Silent and grim and cold. 



11041 



AND OTHER VERSES 



BOBS OF KANDAHAR 

Field-marshal Lord Roberts, V.C., K.C.B., 1832-1914. 

A FAR-FLUNG Empiry arose 

By every known sea, 
And east and west they stood and blest 

And gave their best to thee: 
Field-marshal, baronet and earl — 

Love, Fortune, Cross and Star — 
And when they finished — there you stood — 

Just Bobs of Kandahar. 

Your Sovereign and your Princes 

They heaped their honors high — 
Your People and your Soldiers gave 

What gold can never buy. 
The Potentates of all the Earth 

They hailed you from afar — 
And yet you lived and fought and died, 

Just Bobs of Kandahar. 

Too great to play the hero — 

Too strong for human praise; 
Your life was King and Country — 

Your days were England's days. 
In all your nation's galaxy 

There shines no brighter star 
Than where you rise resplendent — 

Lord Bobs of Kandahar. 

[105] 



ARMY BALLADS 



OLD ACQUAINTANCE 

Concerning the proposed demolition of the infirm old clock tower on the 
west end of College Hall, University of Pennsylvania.* 

THROUGH all the days of college days 
We watched you towering stand — 

Heart of the heart of the campus, 
And lord of its hinterland. 

Ringing your bell for our lazy feet — 

Watching us come and go: 
Knowing our deeds of victory — 

Knowing our days of woe. 

And when as Grads we came again 

Memories to renew, 
First in our thought, we paused to take 

A look aloft at you. 

At you who sentinel-like arose, 

Majestic, loving, proud — 
Above the trees and the traffic roar, 

Wrapped in your leafy shroud. 

Telling the time of the careless days 

In weather fair and rain: 
Bidding your Children face the sun 

And bend to their tasks again. 

* The tower is now down. 

[106 J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Heart of the heart of the campus, 

And an endless hinterland 
Where — palm and pine — a f arflung line 

Your loyal battalions stand. 

And now they would come and tear you down 
(Would they murder an ailing friend?) 

And crumble and scatter you stone and stone 
And call it a fitting end; 

Would they send for a surgeon and save the lif 

Of love or kith or kin — 
Or would they butcher the helpless form 

And whistle the ''ackals in? 

Harry and change and rearrange — 

Demolish, plan and plot; 
But Alma Mater's sacrosanct — 

Oh Vandals — touch it not! 



1107J 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE SONG OF THE SUBMARINE 

THIS is the Song of the Submarine — 

As it sinfe with a surly dip — 
This is the Song of the Submarine, 
That darts where the currents dark careen 
And buries its burrowing bolt unseen 

In the bowels of the Battleship. 

The giant leviathans lie moored — 

The sky is blue and gold 
Where whispering breezes languidly 

The towering hulls enfold. 

A shock — a gaping wound — a list — 

Ye see nor whence nor why — 
But as her fighting-tops go down, 

Ye know full well, 'tis I. 

The giant leviathans lie moored — 

The sunset glow expires, 
And the searchlights sweep and pause and leap 

Like great auroral fires. 

An armored cruiser rears her head, 

Ashake from beam to beam — 
And then I convoy her below 

With all her lights agleam. 

[108] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



The giant leviathans plunge mad 

Across a storm-swept sea, 
With every gun aglitter — 

But never an enemy. 

Sudden the leaders rock and reel, 
And sink with a crashing cry; 

And my little conning-tower lifts, 
And it laughs — " Tis I — 'tis I ! 

"Overlord of the ocean wave — 

Underlord of the deep; 
Gliding where only the fishes glide 

And the bones of sailors sleep. 

"Rising again in the sight of men — 
Choosing the Pride of the Sea — 

And hurling it low with a hidden blow 
And a laugh of ghoulish glee." 

This is the Song of the Submarine — 

As it sinfe with a surly dip — 
This is the Song of the Submarine, 
That darts where the currents dark careen 
And buries its burrowing bolt unseen 
In the bowels of the Battleship. 



(109j 



ARMY BALLADS 



AFTER THE LONG DAY'S WORK 

AFTER the long day's work is over — 

After the day is done, 
Weary they rest from roil and labor, 

Down by the setting sun. 

After the long day's work is over — 

After the day is done — 
Slowly they count the bitter loss 

And victory nearly won. 

Hopes of a lifetime torn and shattered — 

Fairest intent belied — 
Striving again through sorrow and pain, 

Only to be denied. 

The fields of stubble are Drown and sear — 

The birds have gone to nest; 
And the lights in the sky fade low and die 

Where blazed the golden west. 

After the long day's work is over — 

After the day is done, 
What will Ye give to Your weary children 

Lord of the Setting Sun? 



110] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



MATERIAL 

I 

SOME carbon hid in the hilt of the World 

A million years ago, 
Ere the cave-man came in his hairy might — 
And the sabre-toothed tiger stalked in the night 
And the pterodactyl soared in the light 

Of the primal afterglow. 

The eons came — the eons passed — 

Strata on strata crept: 
And it came to the age of modern man, 
Who delved in the earth with pick and pan, 
And watched how the faint lined tracings ran 

Till he came where the treasure slept. 

And some was black and left a smudge 

When the riven rock gave way. 
And some were crystals rare and white, 
That shone with a clear, resplendent light, 
That mocked at the sun and blazoned the night 

Till the night was turned to day. 

II 

Beyond the rim of the outermost star 

Man may not dare to know, 
A tiny flickering ray of red 
Mill 



ARMY BALLADS 



Crept down through space with silent tread 
And swept, an opalescent spread, 
O'er all the Earth below. 

And out of that mantle there arose 

A Thing with the heart of Hell. 
Whose hands reeked red with the reddest crime, 
Whose soul was black as the foulest grime, 
Whose thought was wrought in the stench and slime 

Of the cesspool's gaping well. 

And out of that selfsame mantle sprang 

A Form exceeding rare- 
With soul of honor and heart of gold, 
And men they pointed and cried, "Behold, 
Mayhap 'tis true God wrought of old 

In His own image fair." 



(1121 



AND OTHER VERSES 



ALBERT OF BELGIUM 
1915 

DOWN inside the trenches 
Where the fallen leer — 

Charging 'cross the stubble fields, 
Reeking, red and sear; 

Even as the Bayard — 

"Without reproach and fear." 

Where the risks rise greatest — 
Where the siege guns roar — 

Where the giant howitzers 
Red destruction pour — 

Where the vanguard plunges — 
Where the birdmen soar: 

Where the shrieking shrapnel 
Bursts in shell and flame — 

Where the mad machine-guns 
Take their toll of shame — 

'Bove the carnage rises 
The glory of thy name. 

Fighting 'mid your ruins — 
Backed against the sea — 

Hand of iron and heart of gold, 
As a king should be — 

Lord of a gallant Nation, 
And Prince of Chivalry. 
[1131 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE SONG THE SEA FOG SANG 

THIS is the song the gray fog sang, 
When the bell buoy boomed with cloying clang 
And the fog horn hoarsely howled in the fang 
Of a seething, sightless sea. 

"Ye've harnessed the deep with cable and ship, 
Till ye sneer at the hurricane's breath — 

Ye've delved in the earth and stolen its worth, 
And your doctors laugh at Death. 

"Ye've bridged the Continent coast to coast 
With your engines of wondrous strength: 

Where birds only dare ye've conquered the air 
And ye've measured the Scorpion's length. 

"Ye've gathered the thunderbolt out of the skies 

And bidden it labor for you: 
The hills of the Moon will be scaled very soon — 

In a short generation or two? 

"But when I come rolling in from the sea, 

Clammy and sightless and gray — 
A blank, endless pall, a menacing wall — 

Blotting a World away — 

"Where are the wonderful works of your hand? 

Where is the enemy's fleet? 
Do your ships at high noon fly straight as the loon, 

Or crash on the reef's hidden feet? 
11141 



AND OTHER VERSES 



"Do ye know where the berg rises wicked and white 

Awaiting the Queen of the Sea — 
Cold, callous and stark and wrapped in the dark 

Enveloping mantle of me? 

"Can search-light or lamp cut a swathe through the vamp 

Of my deep and unfathomable gloom? 
Can siren or bell unfailingly tell, 

To spare you a terrible doom? 

"Can Wisdom ye've won since the birth of the Sun 
Distinguish two lights — red and green — 

When ship heads to ship and I silently dip 
And cover the waters between?" 

This is the song the gray fog sang 
When the hell buoy boomed With cloying clang 
And the fog horn hoarsely howled in the fang 
Of a seething, sightless sea. 

And the topmast cracked and the frozen rail 
Split wide to the roc^s and the driving gale; 
And she settled and sank — and a Blinding Veil 
Swept slowly away to lee. 



1151 



ARMY BALLADS 



ONWARD PENNSYLVANIA! 

University of Pennsylvania anthem to be sung to the tune of, 
"Onward Christian Soldiers." 

ONWARD Pennsylvania, 

Onward Red and Blue, 
In defeat or victory, 

Loyal thy Sons and True. 
Though reverse o'erwhelm us, 

Still our cry shall be — 
Onward Pennsylvania, 

On to Victory! 

Onward Pennsylvania, 
Onward Red and Blue, 

As our Sires served Thee, 
We Thy Children do. 

Onward Pennsylvania, 

Faithful to the Past — 
Honor to the Present — 

Glory to the Last. 
Plant Thy royal traditions 

Deep in us Thy seed — 
To worship Right — to temper Might — 

To serve the Nation's need. 

Onward Pennsylvania — 
Onward Red and Blue — 

As Ye've given to us — 
Grant we give to You. 
[116] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Onward Pennsylvania, 

'Mid our mighty cheers; 
Lead us on to Triumph 

Down the speeding years: 
And though trials betray us, 

Or through shot and flame, 
Our ringing cry shall rend the sky — 

"Play up, and play the game!" 

Onward Pennsylvania, 

Onward Red and Blue, 
As Ye lead to Honor — 

May we honor You. 

Note. — The above poem was shown to several representative Univer- 
sity of Pennsylvania men, alumni and undergraduates, and, meeting with 
their approval, was submitted to Provost Edgar F. Smith, who gave me 
his personal sanction to have it sung to the tune of "Onward Christian 
Soldiers," and used as a Pennsylvania song, but a certain element, probably 
superabundantly enthused at just that moment by an acrobatic evangelist, 
placed a Puritanical veto on the verses, as being highly sacrilegious, because 
intended to be sung to the tune of a hymn. 

As that grand old air has an impressive, sonorous cadence, and since 
this poem was intended to be written in a serious, intensive strain, more as 
an inspiring anthem than as a mere song, it can readily be seen I intended 
absolutely no disrupting of religious feeling, but upon being informed of the 
unfortunate contretemps, I immediately withdrew the entire matter, which 
was obviously and indubitably inconsequential to me, even had not the 
peculiar peregrinations of certain sanctimonious cerebral processes been 
palpably and irrefragably ametabolic. 



117 



ARMY BALLADS 



FAME 

A CHILD was digging in the sand 

Where the beach swept smooth and wide; 
And he gazed with mystic longing 

O'er the roll of the restless tide. 
And he said, "I'll build a castle — 

With turret and battlement — 
And dungeon and keep all black and deep 

Where captured knights are sent. 

"And I'll throw my royal banner 

To the winds of land and sea, 
That they who come may pause and gaze 

And learn to honor me. 
And I'll carve my name in the clinging sand — 

Deep and strong and bold — 
That all the Earth shall know my worth 

When passing, they behold." 

He built his castle high and fair — 

He cast his banner free — 
And he wrote his name in letters large 

That laughed to the laughing sea. 
And he called the children far and near, 

And they gazed with gaping eye, 
And they bowed to his fame and his splendid name 

And his works that couldn't die. 
[1181 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Night passed. The children came again 

With shout and laugh of glee; 
And a smooth blank beach ran out to meet 

A swaying, leaden sea. 



1191 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE GRAND CANYON 

THE level lowlands open — 
Dim lined the chasms yawn — 

And a sunken mountain range rears up 
To greet the growing dawn. 

A wonderful, chiseled Spiritland 
Carved by the hand of Time: 

A riot of gold and crimson — 
Ultimate — vast — sublime. 

Terraces, peaks and pyramids — 

Amber and red and dun; 
Wrapped in the woof of a violet haze — 

And washed by the setting sun. 

Hindu temple and Buddhist shrine 
In the moonbeam's mystic light — 

Stretching away in dim array 
To the stars of the desert night — 

And your soul is a child-like wonder — 
And your heart is a great content — 

As you gaze o'er th' sculptured message 
A Master-craftsman sent. 

Sent for a far-flung people — 
For a wondering World to see — 

A fairy land, a land o' dreams, 
In rainbow pageantry. 
[120] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE KING'S JESTER 

THE King stood 'neath the royal oak 
In the moist of a new spring day, 

And he bent him down to the pungent earth 
And he took him a clod of clay; 

And he meshed it long and tenderly 

As he gazed o'er hill and plain, 
And he turned and beckoned his Councillors 

Unto his side again. 

High browed Honor with fixed gaze — 
And Virtue in robes of white — 

And Love with a lyric half unguessed — 
And Valor armed to fight — 

With thoughtful eye They passed him by, 

But halted on their way, 
To grant a benediction 

Upon the Master's clay. 



At last he called the Royal Fool 
With cap and bells and wand, 

And the King he scowled at his Jester — 
For of him he was overfond. 

And he bade him look on the clotted mass 
Lifeless and limp and gray — 

And the Jester spoke to the soulless thing 
With a laugh that was light and gay — 
[1211 



ARMY BALLADS 



"When the storm clouds gather above the hills — 
When the waves are white and high — 

When blank despair creeps from his lair 
And will not pass you by: 

"When fear and hate halt at your gate 

And knock to enter in — 
When want and woe and wily foe 

Would drag you to your sin: 

"When swerveless Honor leads you, 

And you may not digress; 
And the path is steep and stony 

And mocks at your duress — 

"Each stinging step I'll greet you 

Though all the World deride — 
By all the depths ye fathom 

I'll follow at your side. 

"Though dire defeat enfolds you 

And the wound shows wide and red, 
I '11 stoop and bathe the fetid flesh — 

I'll soothe the weary head — 

"I'll tinkle my bells in your tired ears 

As a breath of Spring to the brain, 
As the scent of clover and new-wet pine 

Sweeping an arid plain: 

"And ye rise again with a laugh on the lips 

From blows and counter-blows — " 
He paused . . . and the King stretched forth his hand, 

And the quivering clay arose. 

[122] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



IN MEMORIAM 

The Wreck of the "Titanic," April 15, 1912. 

I 
THEY put the women in the boats — 

They said a last good-bye. 
The great Ship stood upon her end 

And plunged with a piercing cry 
And her priceless freight to demonstrate 

How gentlemen can die. 

II 

"How great, how very great is God — 

How small and weak are we:" 
Went up the wail when they heard the tale 

Of the toll of the ice at sea. 

Ill 
"How great, how very great is Man — 

Who gives his life as these:" 
And He lifted the souls of a thousand Saints 

From the grasp of the jealous seas. 

Wild Waves and horses' manes 

Blotting out the sky — 
Gray fog and grayer bergs 

Drifting slowly by; 
But never a stone in the Great Alone, 

Out there where the chosen lie. 
[1231 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE ETERNAL SEA 

THEY came to me from their snow-capped hill, 

Their valley and fertile plain — 
From their cities' glare and their woodlands fair, 

Again and yet again. 

Down through the countless centuries, 

From Carthage, Rome and Tyre, 
From bight and bay of far Cathay 

And Bengal's ports afire — 

From Albion's cliff -enshadowed town — 

From the South Sea fisher shack, 
Ever they came at my mystic name, 

And seldom turned they back. 

My far-swept, swaying bosom 

Brought peace to their weary gaze: 

My leaden roll to the broken soul 
Drowned out the shotted days. 

My dancing spray reflected 

The radiant rainbow's path; 
My saffron spume across the gloom 

Hurled back the Storm King's wrath. 

Capricious, vain, resplendent — 

Vast, treacherous but adored — 
By mood and mood my loyal brood 

Acknowledge me their lord. 
[1241 



AND OTHER VERSES 



I cast my benediction — 

The psalm of the singing sea, 
And to the strand of No Man's Land 

My brave bairns sail with me. 

The dripping fog-wind whimpers 

Across each fevered brow, 
And I bid them learn to leave the stern 

And face the plunging prow. 

I bid them leave the rudder's wake — 
And the wrecks of the yesteryears; 

I bid them gaze through the opal haze 
Where the bow spray lifts and veers. 

In the gleam of the golden sunrise — 
In the welt of the sunset's red — 

In the middle night by the moonbeam's light 
Majestically I spread, 

Calling my wayward children — 

Laughing, loving, free: 
Crooning my lay by night and day — 

The Song of the beckoning Sea. 

Rise I in might and anger — 

Smite them and fling them far, 
But ever more on the white lee shore 

They press to my foam-lashed bar. 
[125] 



ARMY BALLADS 



By funnel and mast and blinding blast 

They worship at my shrine. 
By wind and wave my storm-spent brave 

Have proved their love and mine. 

In hollowed log, in rotten hull, 

In swaying caravel — 
In frames of steel, for woe and weal, 

They strove beneath my spell. 

Honor I brought their Captains — 
Where swept the fighting line: 

Treasure I wrought for those that sought 
O'er the unmarked paths of mine. 

Inspiration I showed my sons, 
Where the wet, salt winds are blown; 

And peace I gave 'neath the wanton wave 
When hope and faith had flown. 

Cruel my mockers brand me — 

Terrible in my might; 
But I hold my sway till the Judgment Day 

And the King shall judge aright. 

Sepulchre of the Ages, 

Eternal, endless, vast; 
Linking unseen the years between 

The present and the past. 
[126] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Lord High Keeper of life and love 
And death and mystery; 

Father-confessor stern and \ind — 
To my Children of the Sea. 



1127] 



PART THREE 

OTHER VERSES 



1291 



SHAH JEHAN 

BUILDER OF THE TAJ MAHAL 

THEY have carried my couch to the window 

Up over the river high, 
That a Great Mogul may have his wish 

Ere he lay him down to die. 

And the wish was ever this, and is, 

Ere the last least shadows flee, 
To gaze at the end o'er the river's bend 

On the shrine that I raised for thee. 

And the plans I wrought from the plans they brought, 

And I watched it slowly rise, 
A vision of snow forever aglow 

In the blue of the northern skies. 

For I built it of purest marble, 

That all the World might see 
The depth of thy matchless beauty, 

And the light that ye were to me. 

The silver Jumna broadens — 

The day is growing dark, 
And only the peacock's calling 

Comes over the rose-rimmed park. 
[131] 



ARMY BALLADS 



And soon thy sunset marble 

Will glow as the amethyst, 
And moonlit skies shall make thee rise 

A vision of pearly mist. 

A vision of light and wonder 

For the hordes in the covered wains, 
From the snow-peaked north where the tides burst forth 

To the Ghauts and the Rajput plains. 

From the sapphire lakes in the Kashmir hills. 

Whence crystal rivers rise, 
To the jungles where the tiger's lair 

Lies bare to the Deccan skies. 

And the proud Mahratta chieftains 

And the Afghan lords shall see 
The tender gleam of thy living dream, 

Through all Eternity. 

The black is bending lower — 

Ah wife — the day-star nears — 
And I see you come with calling arms 

As ye came in the yesteryears. 

And the joy is mine that ne'er was mine 

By Palace and Peacock Throne — 
By marble and gold where the World grows cold 

In the seed that It has sown. 
[1321 



AND OTHER VERSES 



More bright than the Rajputana stars 

Thine eyes shone out to me — 
More gay thy laugh than the rainbow chaff 

That lifts from the Southern Sea. 

More fair thy hair than any silk 

In Delhi's proud bazaars — 
More true thy heart than the tulwar's start — 

Blood- wet in a hundred wars. 

More red thy lips than the Flaming Trees 

That brighten the Punjab plains — 
More soft thy tread than the winds that spread 

The last of the summer rains. 

No blush of the dawning heavens — 

No rose by the garden wall, 
May ever seek to match thy cheek — 

Oh fairest rose of all. 

Above the bending river 

The midday sun is gone, 
But the glow of thy tomb dispels the gloom 

Where doubting shadows yawn. 

And the glow of thy tomb shall break the gloom 
Through the march of the marching years, 

Where, builded and bound from the dome to the ground 
It was wrought of a monarch's tears. 
[1331 



ARMY BALLADS 



The silver Jumna broadens 

Like a moonlit summer sea, 
But bank and bower and town and tower 

Have bidden farewell to me: 

And only the tall white minarets, 
And the matchless dome shine through 

The silver Jumna broadens and — 
It bears me — love — to you. 



11341 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE OMNIPOTENT 

THE Lord looked down on the nether Earth 

He had made so fair and green, 
Fertile valleys and snow-capped hills 

And the oceans that lie between. 

The Lord looked down on Man and Maid, 
Through the birth of the crystal air: 

And the Lord leaned back in His well-earned rest 
And He knew that the sight was fair. 

The eons crept and the eons swept 

And His children multiplied, 
And ever they lived in simple faith, 

And in simple faith they died. 

They blessed the earth that gave them birth — 
They wept to the midnight star — 

And they stood in awe where the tides off-shore 
Rose leaping across the bar. 

They blessed the earth that gave them birth — 

But past all time and tide, 
They blessed their Lord-Creator — 

Nor knew Him mystified. 

They came and went — the little men — 

The men of a primal breed — 
And the Lord He gathered them as they lived, 

Each in his simple creed. 
11351 



ARMY BALLADS 



And the Lord He gathered them as they came — 

Ere the Earth had time to cool 
And the horde of Cain had clouted the brain 

'Neath the lash of a monstrous school. 

II 

The Lord looked down on the nether Earth 

He had made so fair and green — 
Fertile valleys and snow-capped hills 

And the oceans that lie between. 

And He saw the strife of the thousand sects — 

And ever anew they came — 
Torture and farce and infamy 

Committed in His name. 

Figure and form and fetich — 

Councils of hate and greed — 
Prophet on prophet warring, 

Each to his separate need. 

Symbol and sign and surplice 

And ostentatious prayer, 
And the hollow mock of the chanceled dark 

Flung back in the raftered air. 

And the Lord He gazed wistfully 
Through the track of a falling star; 

And He turned His sight from the homes of men, 
Where the ranting schisms are. 



136 i 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE OUTBOUND TRAIL 

THE Outbound Trail — The Outbound Trail — 

We hear it calling still: 
Coralline bight where the waves churn white — 

Ocean and plain and hill: 
Jungle and palm — where the starlit calm 

The Wanderer's loves fulfill. 

Where the bleak, black blizzards blinding sweep 

Across the crumpled floe, 
And the Living Light makes white the night 

Above the boundless snow, 
And the sentinel penguins watch the waste 

Where the whale and the walrus go: 

Where the phosphor fires flash and flare 

Along the bellowing bow, 
And the soft salt breeze of the Southern Seas 

Is sifting across the prow, 
And the glittering Cross in the blue-black sky, 

The Watcher of Then and Now: 

We'll lift again the lineless plain 

Where the deep-cut rivers run — 
And the pallid peaks as the eagle seeks 

His crag when the day is done: 
And the rose-red glaciers glance and gleam 

In the glow of the setting sun. 
[1371 



ARMY BALLADS 



We'll go once more to a farther shore — 

We'll track the outbound trail; 
Harbor and hill where the World stands still 

Where the strange-rigged fishers sail — 
And only the tune of the tasseled fronds, 

Like the moan of a distant gale. 

We'll tramp anew the jungle through 

Where ferned Pitcairnias rise, 
And the softly fanned Tjemaras stand 

Green lace against the skies, 
And the last red ray of the tropic day 

Flickers and flares and dies. 

Across the full-swung, shifting seas 

There comes a becking gleam, 
Strong as the iron hand of Fate — 

Sweet as a lover s dream. 
What can bind us — what can \eep us — 

Who shall tell us nay? 
When the Outbound Trail is calling us — 

Is calling us away. 



138] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE FOOL 

IN the first gray dawn of history 

A Paleolithic man 
Observed an irate mammoth — 

Observed how his neighbors ran: 
And he sat on a naked boulder 

Where the plains stretched out to the sun, 
And jowl in hand he frowned and planned 

As none before had done. 



Next day his neighbors passed him, 

And still he sat and thought, 
And the next day and the next day, 

But never a deed was wrought. 
Till the fifth sun saw him flaking 

Some flint where the rocks fall free 
And the sixth sun saw him shaping 

A shaft from a fallen tree. 



Enak and Oonak and Anak 

And their children and kith and kin, 
They paused where they watched him working 

And they smiled and they raised the chin, 
And they tapped their foreheads knowingly — 

As you and I have done — 
But he — he had never a moment 

To mark their mocking fun. 
[139J 



ARMY BALLADS 



And Enak passed on to bury 

His brother the mammoth slew 
And Oonak, to stay his starving, . 

With his fingers grubbed anew. 
And Anak, he thought of his tender spouse 

An ichthyosaurus ate — 
Because in seeking the nearest tree 

She had reached it just too late. 



Around the Council fire, 

More beast and ape than man, 
The hairy hosts assembled, 

And their talk to the crazed one ran. 
And they said, "It is best that we kill him 

Ere he strangle us in the night, 
Or brings on our head the curse of the dead 

When the thundering heavens light. 

"It is best that we rid our caverns 

Of neighbors such as these — 
It is best — " but the Council shuddered 

At the rustle of parting leaves. 
Out of the primal forest 

Straight to their midst he strode — 
Weathered and gaunt — but they gave no taunt 

As he flung to the ground his load. 

They eyed them with suspicion — 

The long smooth shafts and lean: 
They felt of the thong-bound flint barbs — 

They saw that the work was clean. 
[140] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Like children with a plaything, 

When first it is understood. 
They leapt to their feet and hurled them - 

And they knew that the act was good. 

They pictured the mighty mammoth 

As the hurtling spear shafts sank, 
They pictured the unsuspecting game 

Down by the river's bank; 
They pictured their safe-defended homes - 

They pictured the fallen foe. . . . 
And the Fool they led to the highest seat, 

Where the Council fires glow. 



M41J 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE SHIPS 

THE White Ship lifts the horizon — 
The masts are shot with gold — 

And I know by the shining canvas 
The cargo in the hold. 

And now they've warped and fastened her, 

Where I impatient wait — 
To find a hollow mockery, 

Or a rank and rotted freight. 



The Black Ship shows against the storm 

Her hull is low and lean — 
And a flag of gore at the stern and fore, 

And the skull and bones between. 

I shun the wharf where she bears down 
And her desperate crew make fast, 

But manifold from the darkest hold 
Come forth my dreams at last. 

The White Ships and the Black Ships 

They loom across the sea — 
But I may not know until they dock — 

The wares they bring to me. 



11421 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE FIRST POET 

IN the days of prose ere a bard arose 

There came from a Northern Land, 
A man with tales of the spouting whales 

And the Lights that the ice-winds fanned. 

And they sat them 'round on the barren ground, 
And they clicked their spears to the time, 

And they lingered each on the golden speech 
Of the man with the words that rhyme. 

With the words that rhyme like the rolling chime 

Of the tread of the rhythmic sea, 
And silent they listened with eyes that glistened 

In savage ecstasy. 

Over the plain as a pall was lain 

The hand of the primal heart, 
Till slowly there rose through the rock-bound close 

The first faint glimmering Start. 

As a ray of light in the storm-lashed night, 

O'er the virgin forests swept 
From the star-staked sea the Symbols Three — 

And the cave-men softly wept. 

Softly wept as slowly crept 

To the depth of the savage brain, 
Honor, forsooth, and Faith and Truth — 

And they rose from the rock-rimmed plain — 

[1431 



ARMY BALLADS 



And in twos and threes 'neath the mammoth trees 

They whispered as children do: 
And the Great World sprang from the Bard who sang, 

And the First of the Men who Knew. 



11441 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE TEST 

THE Lord He scanned His children, 

His good, well-meaning children, 
And He murmured as He saw them 

Where they came and paused and passed; 
" I will drag them I will drive them 

Through the fourfold Hells of Torture, 
And — I will test the product 

That comes back to me at last." 



His children came — His children paused 

His children slowly passed Him — 
And for the sweat upon the brow 

And scar upon the cheek, 
He heaped the burdens higher — 

He cut and smote and lashed them — 
And as they swayed and tottered 

He hurled them spent and weak. 

They cast an eye, a gleaming eye, 

Above to where they sought Him — 
But blank the empty skies gave back, 

And blank the heavens stared. 
And even they with riven heart, 

Who strove to hide the hiding, 
He drove the scalpel deeper, 

That the inmost core lay bared. 
[145] 



ARMY BALLADS 



At last He took the Test-Tubes 

And the Acids of the Ages, 
And he lit the Mighty Forges 

With the Fires of the Years, 
And He turned and smote and hammered, 

And He poured and paused and pondered, 
Till a clear precipitate formed 'neath 

A residue of tears. 

Across the outer spaces — 

Beyond the last least sun-path, 
He called them gently homeward 
■ And He murmured as they passed, 
"I have driven ye and dragged ye 

Through the fourfold Hells of Torture, 
And — I will keep the product 
That comes back to me at last." 



146J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE PORT 0' LOST DELIGHT 

SOME call it Fame or Honor — 

Some call it Love or Power — 
Whence running rails and bellied sails 

The four-banned galleons tower. 
To each the separate vision — 

To each the guiding light — 
Where, 'bove the dim horizon lifts 

The Port o Lost Delight. 

'Mid mighty cheers and the hope of years 
They swung the good Ship free, 

And with laughter brave she took the wave 
Of the wonderful, whispering sea. 

Over the scud of the white-capped flood — 
Over the strong, young days — 

Over the lift of the chaff-churned drift 
And the mist of the moonlit haze — 

Running the lights o' the Ports-o'-Call, 
Where the beckoning beacons shine; 

But she passed them by with callous eye, 
Nor saw the luring sign. 

Piercing the glow of the ocean's dawn, 

As slow the seas unfold; 
Scudding again across the plain 

Of rippling, sunset gold. 
[147J 



ARMY BALLADS 



Joyous and fair in the brine-wet air, 
Where the phosphor bow-wave slips, 

And the Wraiths of the Deep their secrets keep 
Of the tale o' the passing ships. 

II 

Till there lifted a wondrous Haven 

Across the swinging main, 
As ne'er before had lifted — 

Nor e'er might lift again. 

Clear it shone, each gleaming stone, 

Mystic, white and far, 
Castle and tree above the sea 

Where the lilac combers are. 

And over all there came a call, 

As a Siren's soft refrain — 
Nor ever a helm to guide her, 

The Good Ship turned again. 

Swift o'er the back-set breakers 

She plunged against the wind, 
And never a look tor left or right, 

And never a thought behind: 

Swinging, swaying, singing, 

With all her canvas spread, 
And bending spars and laughter 

She fast and faster sped. 

[148] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



A little space — a little space — 

A little nearer, then — 
The Haven sank in the sunset sea, 

And the sea was a waste again. 

Ill 

As the quivering stag at the bullet's sting, 

Who knew not harm was nigh, 
So shook the Ship by seam and seam 

In the death that may not die. 

And though it sailed o'er every wave, 

By reef and barrier bar, 
'Neath the glare of the South Seas' scorching sun 

And the gleam of the lone North Star. 

Though it lifted the lights o' the Ports-o'-Call, 

By green and crimson beam, 
It never lifted the Light again — 

The Light that fled as a dream. 

Over a blue-black endless sea — 

Over a timeless void — 
Callous and careless plunged the Ship 

That never a storm destroyed. 

Skimming the foaming coral reef — 

Daring the mid-deep wind — 
Clipping the roar of the white lee shore 

Where the Gods of Chance run blind. 
[149J 



ARMY BALLADS 



Full belly sail before the gale — 
With scuppers churning green — 

And eyes set dead in a figure-head 
That dipped in the troughs between: 

That rose and fell and cut the swell — 

Or knew the day or night; 
That rose and fell to the soundless bell 

Of the Port o' Lost Delight. 



150] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 

O'ER the rock of all eternal — 
Over sacred soil ye've trod; 

Whither king and priest and people 
Make their mockery of God. 

Like the rolling of an organ 
Down the mighty nave of Time, 

In the hush of Things Supernal 
Ye have sung of Things Sublime. 

Living lilt beyond the starlight — 
Living light beyond the spheres — 

With a calm majestic cadence 
Came the call of all the years. 

As a pause across the storm-path — 
As the swaying starlit sea — 

As the faith of little children — 
Ye have writ ETERNITY. 



151 



ARMY BALLADS 



KING BAMBOO 

A BALLAD OF THE EAST INDIES 

I BUILD them boats and houses — 

I check their mountain roads — 
I bear their double burdens — 

The squeaking, creaking loads. 
Adown the broken hill-sides 

My long, high pipings run, 
To bring their water to them 

Adripping 'neath the sun. 

And when from spring and river 

The weary climbers strain, 
'Tis I who hold the nectar 

To bring them life again. 
I am the quivering bridges 

That span the deep ravine — 
I am the matted fences 

That twist and wind between. 

When ye sing of the lace Tjemara tree — 

When ye speak of the swaying Palm — 
When ye talk of the ferned Pitcairnia, 

And the monkey's wild alarm: 
When ye tell of the blazing sunsets — 

When ye know ye are nearly through — 
Bend ye a knee to a Sovereign Lord — 

As my flat-nosed children do. 

11521 



AND OTHER VERSES 



MUSIC 

'TWIXT God and Man a closer span, 

Half human half divine: 
The lilt that lies beyond the skies 

To lift us o'er the Line. 
Both last and first to quench the thirst 

With long forsaken thought; 
And lure us there in higher air, 

Where noble deeds are wrought. 

To buoy youth with stronger truth, 

And large ambition's fire: 
To help the weak repentance seek, 

And strengthen good desire: 
To bring us back o'er trail and track, 

O'er mountain, gulf and sea, 
The mellow haze of other days 

Now lost to you and me. 



153' 



ARMY BALLADS 



JOGGINS 

NOW Joggins wrought a wondrous scheme 
Most perfect, wise and great — 

To transport logs by the open sea, 
South-bound and scorning freight. 

So log by log and chain by chain 

He lashed the timbers tight, 
And Nova Scotia bade God-speed 

As it cleared the farthest light. 

And Joggins watched the vast beast bend 

On the tops of the tipsy sea, 
And Joggins heard the crunching roar 

Like giants in agony. 

And through the long black endless nights 

He saw it sink and rise; 
He saw it roll on the smooth-backed swell 

Or lash 'neath the storm-swept skies. 

He saw it crumple and straighten back, 

And rush and jam again; 
And he felt the laugh from the distant shore 

The scorn of his fellowmen. 

But the many-bodied monster held 
'Neath the curb of the crackling chain, 

And the distant port was sighted now, 
The sunshine after rain. 
[1541 



AND OTHER VERSES 



When, the sea rose high in its ancient might 

As the sea is wont to do — 
And it watched the jam roll snug and tight 

For the harbor headed true: 

And the sea in anger snapped the chains 
And flung the great logs wide — 

And the world derisive, laughed again — 
It laughed — and Joggins cried. 



They hammered around the beetling Horn 

In the teeth of the polar hail — 
They drifted along by the ice-bound coast 

In the shriek of the frozen gale. 

Slowly but sure as the days endure 

They crept to the tropic calm; 
They lolled and rolled in the gold-streaked sea 

By the lire-tree and palm. 

They buckled back on a sightless track 

Past Behring's lonely grave — 
They prodded and rammed in the coast-wise drift 

Where the North Lights leap and wave. 

They turned again by the Spanish Main 

And the isles of hidden gold; 
They ran the Pillars of Hercules 

To the lands that were of old. 
[155] 



ARMY BALLADS 



They weathered the cape of the chattering ape 
They weathered the ice-bound floe — 

And the upright penguin looked askance, 
Surprised to see them go. 

By Dipper and Cross and never a loss 
They rolled with the ocean breeze — 

By the Four Great Points they swept around 
On the breast of the far-flung seas. 

Till a message flashed — "Note ye the place 

That a log is seen of you:" 
And mariners marked the time and clime, 

As they were told to do. 

And scholars scanned the rude reports 

Astreak with dirt and oil — 
And lastly learned a lesson as 

Reward of patient toil. 

And they made a map of the mighty seas, 
And stretched from shore to shore 

They drew mysterious arrowed lines, 
(Where nought had been before). 

That stole around by the Arctic night, 

And down to the coral strand; 
That swept again o'er the open main — 

Uniting land and land. 
[I56J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



That weathered the cape of the chattering ape 
That weathered the ice-bound floe — 

And the upright penguin looked askance — 
But failed to see them go. 

So ships that haste from shore to shore, 

Pursue the hidden tide; 
And the world derisive laughs no more — 

That laughed — when Joggins cried. 

For ships that haste from shore to shore, 

They follow the arrows' straint: 
And Joggins a human failure — 

Is Joggins a patron saint. 



[157] 



ARMY BALLADS 



AROLAS AT JOLO 

(A TRUE TALE) 

HATED by those in power high, 

In the land that gave me birth, 
They hunted the countries of East and West 

For the vilest hole on earth. 

They could not kill me there and then, 

Without the large offence, 
So they sought for the sickliest spot they knew, 

And quickly sent me thence. 

Then in Madrid they laughed and sneered, 
And wagered their plundered gold, 

On the number of months or weeks or days 
From the fever's grip I'd hold. 

And it grew to a joke on the laughing lips 
Of the dukes and the high grandees, 

Of the new command the king had found 
For me in the phosphor seas. 

Far down in the south of the Philippines, 

On the coast of a fevered isle, 
In the midst of the stench of a jungle-swamp, 

In the heart of the tropic's bile: 
[1581 



AND OTHER VERSES 



In the land of the Moro and pirate and snake, 

And the glare of the scorching sky, 
They stationed Arolas, a general of Spain, 

With a handful of men — to die. 

So we fought the fanatics who came from the hills, 
And the pirates who came from the seas; 

Then we turned on our last and our deadliest foe, 
The fever that came on the breeze. 

Sick'ning and toiling, we drained and filled, 

Till acres of marsh turned land: 
And the fever that reigned in the reeking place 

Was choked with an iron hand. 

Then we builded a wall with the bricks they sent, 

And pieces of coral rock; 
The better our dwindled band to guard 

Against the Mohammedan flock. 

Within the loop-holed walls we laid 

Streets — shaded, graded, broad: 
Cuartel and plaza — flowered parks — 

Fit town for any lord. 

Block-houses, light-house, waterworks: 

Ten fathoms off the pier; 
And virgin soil in the shaded vales, 

And pearls in the waters near. 
[159] 



ARMY BALLADS 



The weeks rolled by, and the months rolled by, 

And the seasons slowly spent; 
But never a word of me or mine, 

On the home-bound mail-boat went. 

Madrid perplexed, Manila-ward 

Sent message o'er the sea — 
"Arolas stationed to the South — 

What news of him have ye?" 

Then from Manila down they came. 

Gold-laced, officious, grand; 
Wide-mouthed they gazed on street and park, 

Wall, light-house, sea and land. 

Well-ordered, cool, clean, healthy, strong — 

They saw my place aright — 
And in my gaunt and weathered face, 

They read the fearful fight. 



To-day I bowed before my King — 
(The Nobles bowed to me) — 

And Spain exultantly extols 
My name from sea to sea. 



|160; 



AND OTHER VERSES 



CHRISTMAS GREETING 

MAY the joys of Christmas bring 
To your heart eternal Spring, 
Though the ground is white and frozen where the flakes of 
winter fly. . . . 
And adown the checkered years — 
If betimes a shadow rears — 
May your Yuletide glimmer brightly through the crimson- 
dawning sky. 



161 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE EMPIRE CITIES 

THESE are the songs we proudly sing — the Empire cities 

eight — 
For we stand for a land, broad, fertile, grand; and rich and 

strong and great. 

New York. 

I cast my eyes to eastward, and the sea gives up its 

store; 
I cast my eyes to westward where the mill and railroad 

roar, 
And the riches of the Eastland and the treasures of the 

West, 
I pour across the stormy seas to nations lesser blest. 
And where spires and forty-story buildings bite the morning 

sky, 
My thirty nations love and fight and live and toil and die. 

Philadelphia. 

I claim no thirty nations — I boast no violent strife — 
And they taunt me for my slowness and my steady, quiet life, 
But rich and poor and great and small, however far they 

roam, 
They cherish me and love me — for all that meaneth Home. 
And the loom and lathe and hammer turn and pound the 

livelong day, 
And a solid prosperous present blends with glorious mem'ries 

gray. 

I162J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Washington. 

I hold the nation's destiny, I hold the people's fate, 

My mandates bind from old Cape Cod 'cross to the Golden 

Gate, 
And the mightiest nations of the earth beyond the purple 

sea, 
Their jeweled and ribboned ministers they eager send to 

me. 
And prince and king and emperor in fear or dread or 

hate, 
On word or ultimatum mine must patiently await. 

Chicago. 

The way unto the heartstrings of the animal called Man 
Is through his stomach — thus the very ancient proverb ran. 
So if any city of the earth deserves more love than I, 
It must be where the manna falls in showers from the sky. 
Duluth to Buffalo my ships sail o'er the saltless seas, 
And railroads sending food, bring gold, and give my people 
ease. 

San Francisco. 

Like Rome of old, on rugged hills, I sit in majesty, 

And from my mighty cliffs look out across a sunset sea, 

And the riches of the Orient, silk, tea, pearl, jade and spice, 

Must enter through my Golden Gate, your cultured to 

suffice. 
And hidden batt'ries mong my cliffs inspect the western 

sky, 
For I watch the Asian millions with an ever wakeful eye. 

[163 J 



ARMY BALLADS 



Honolulu. 

The jewel of the Orient where the lava hot is hurled, 

I'm famed abroad the beauteous garden spot of all the world. 

Two thousand miles to eastward lies my mother country 

great, 
And to her I join the Philippines and watch the islands' fate. 
And the splendors of the Orient and glories of the West, 
Commingling with the flag I float, ordain me triply blest. 

Sitka. 

I guard the northern waters, I gather hide and fur, 

I watch the poachers off the coast, and catch them should 

they err. 
And the gleaming of the Northern Lights above the frozen 

sea, 
Their dazzling scintillating flames are flashing far and free. 
The nations send their best and worst to me to gather gold; 
And the snowy passes grimly grasp their victims manifold. 

Manila. 

Your farthest sentinel — I stand upon the Asian coast, 

Headquarters for your Eastern trade and valiant khaki host; 

And thirty miles across the bay beyond Corregidor 

The ever troubled China Sea is lapping China's shore. 

And Cebu hemp and Jolo pearls, Luzon tobacco too, 

I ship to east and westward, and swell your revenue. 

This is the chorus where we join hands 'cross the land and sea, 
For the fame we sing is a lasting thing, and helpeth you and me. 



M64] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE HEART OF THE ROVER 

THEY'RE sniffing the brine of the ocean — 

They're smelling the dust of the plain — 
They're living the days of the wanderer, 

Over and over again. 
The lights of the tropic sunset — 

The dusk of the ice-bound floes — 
Are drifting anew — the seasons through — 

When the heart of the rover goes. 

The song of a bird in the maple — 

The silver of wind-turned leaves — 
The new- wet pine or clover — 

The drone of the swarming bees — 
A sight — a scent — a something — 

Brings back o'er plain and sea, 
To the heart of the one-time rover, 

The Days of Used-to-be. 

Were they days of joy and pleasure? 

Were they days of fast and drouth? 
Were they spent by the palm-topped coral - 

Or the drifts of the Cross-crowned south? 
Were they years of haughty exile? 

Were they years of bitter need? 
Of warring or vindication? 

Of avarice? Honor? Greed? 
(165J 



ARMY BALLADS 



They were spent — that's all. They've faded 

As the silent seasons roll; 
But things to others meaningless 

Are filling the rover's soul. 
A sight — a scent — a something — 

And over the crested seas — 
For weal or woe or sun or snow — 

The heart of the rover flees. 



[1661 



AND OTHER VERSES 



TO A COLLEGE FRIENDSHIP 

WHEN the college days are over — 
When the thoughtless days are done — 
When we hit the different trails o'er land and sea: 
When the deeper lines are growing — 
'Neath the shaded lamp or sun — 
When we wash the second buoy hard alee. 

When we grip the straining tiller — 
When we grate the sunken reef — 
When the lights we thought would lead us fade and fail: 
When the somber skies are sinking, 
And the crested combers seethe — 
And the scorning voices mock us through the gale. 

When the summer turns to autumn, 
And the first faint frost appears — 
Just a tinge of scattered gray ahere and there: 
When we round the homeward buoy, 
Toward the Port of All the Years — 
And we hear the rock-perched sirens call "Beware!" 

When we're beating in the Harbor — 
Scuppers down beneath the foam — 
With our sails a little weather-worn and frayed: 
We will cast a golden blessing — 
In the gathering of the gloam — 
O'er the distant days of loyal friendship made. 
[1671 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE SONG OF ASIA 

NORTHWARD, southward, eastward, westward — frozen 

cape and boiling sea; 
Tinted ocean, jeweled islands, west to Urals bold and free. 
Standing for the oldest nations, standing for the oldest gods; 
For those Oriental monarchs ruling realms with iron rods. 

Where the Yellow River broadens, where the Gobi sand- 
storms drive, 

Where the Lama rules in Lhassa, where the ochre millions 
thrive, 

I have watched the Dragon Monarchs in their stern and 
subtile might, 

Conquer from the Irawaddy northward to the Arctic night. 

Where the'mighty steppes are leading down to Iran's sandy 

plain, 
Gorgeous Persian king and satrap once did conquer, love and 

reign. 
Where the great twin rivers windeth through the cradle of 

the World, 
To the Macedon and Roman culture's banner I unfurled. 

Gems of Ind and silks of China, Persian rug and Arab gold, 
Splendor, History and Tradition all in me you may behold. 
Tyre and Sidon planting cities — jewels upon the purple 

seas — 
Sending gorgeous goods of mine that Rome might have her 

luxuries. 

[1681 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Where the Tigris and Euphrates meet and singly seaward 

flow, 
I have watched the greatest cities of the whole world rise 

and grow — 
Babylon the proud and splendid — Ninevah the old and 

grand — 
Empire cities wielding power over mountain, sea and land. 

Samarcand who knew the glory of the mighty Tartar lords, 
Holding by a bloody prestige all the reckless northern hordes. 
Delhi flashing white and dazzling 'neath a red, destroying sun, 
Home of Grand Moguls the gorgeous — ere their setting had 
begun. 

Frozen tundras of my northlands — fertile valleys of my 
east — 

Burning southlands jeweled and starving — west, the land 
of song and feast. 

Genghis Khan, Confucius, Omar, Cyrus, Buddha, Tamer- 
lane — 

With those names and golden memories wonder ye that I am 
vain? 

I have hurled my hosts of henchmen like the lightning in its 

haste, 
Westward o'er the plains of Europe laying slaughter, blood 

and waste. 
I have seen those iron conquerors, from Europa's barbarous 

state 
Raise the kingdoms of the present — learn'd and many, 

strong and great. 

11691 



ARMY BALLADS 



I was ancient, I was mighty, when no other lands were known: 
From my Himalayan foot-hills sprang the tongues ye call 

your own. 
First to leave the savage Stone Age, when the cultured arts 

unfurled, 
Look to me and bow obeisance — I, the Mother of the World. 



[170] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE CALLING OF THE WINDS 

THE Winds of the World are calling — 

There's a longing in your breast 
For the mighty sweep of the rolling deep, 

Or the breath of the mountain-crest: 
And ye long for another region — 

And ye long for another clime — 
For the friend or foe ye used to know, 

And the days of another time. 



The Winds of the World are calling — 

And will ye answer nay? 
Ye know the World where the palms unfurled 

Where the seal and the walrus play — 
Where the rivers through the jungle 

Are washing their virgin banks, 
Where fir and pine 'neath the Arctic line 

Stand straight in their serried ranks. 

The Winds of the World are calling — 

And will ye go and do 
The things afar of peace or war 

That beckoning call to you — 
O'er the trail of the tropic mountain, 

O'er pampas, sea and plain, 
O'er Arctic floe, in the driving snow, 

Or the red Equator's rain? 
11711 



ARMY BALLADS 



The Winds of the World are calling — 

And will ye answer no? 
Or run amuck and cast your luck 

Where the counter-tradewinds blow? 
Where the stilted laws of city, 

(Each day fore-settled — planned — ) 
Are broke in twain on sea and plain 

In the tracts of No Man's Land. 



172 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE FAILERS 

LOOK Lord upon Thy Failers, 

On river and land and sea; 
Who've toiled and fought for the things they sought, 

But losers utterly. 
Their prestige o'er the Nation, 

Rings not through the Hall of Fame, 
For to the grave — crushed, weary, brave — 

They go with knownless name. 

They've split the rock, they've furled the sail, 

They've grasped the pen and gun, 
They've beaten the paths of the boundless earth, 

'Neath snow and the tropic sun: 
They've striven — (Lord they've striven — ) 

'Gainst the luck and the odds that are; 
Through day and night a ceaseless fight, 

And lost their guiding star. 

Look Lord on the mighty Failers, 

With thought and purpose high; 
Look Lord on the feebler Failers, 

And do not pass them by. 
They've fought a long and glorious fight — 

They've missed their golden goal — 
Their hearts are crushed in the great world's rush, 

Touch Thou the Failer's soul. 
11731 



ARMY BALLADS 



Oh Lord of the ancient ages, 

Oh Lord of the oldest past, 
Oh Lord of the splendid present, 

And the future to the last, 
Look down on the fruitless strivers — 

The Failers of East and West — 
And grant them a double blessing Lord, 

Ye grant to all the rest. 



174] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE CITY MOON 

THROUGH the hurrying, lighted city, 
Through the grinding rush and roar, 

High o'er brick and stone and coping 
We are seeing you once more. 

Paler, fainter — cold, uncanny — 
Where the wires swing on high, 

And the twenty stories tower 
Blocked and black against the sky. 

Surely — no, we're only dreaming, 
You are not the moon we knew 

When we watched the wild waves rushing 
'Gainst the gorge and driving through: 

Till the foam as molten silver — 
Till the spray as dancing fire — 

Sped the dormant blood within us 
To the Land of Our Desire. 

You are not the moon that watched us 
Where the lone lean shadows lie 

O'er the jewel-bestudded snow-field, 
'Neath the blue-black winter sky. 

You are not the moon that broadened 

Silver paths across the sea, 
Till the scintillating ocean 

Danced in joyous ecstasy: 
[1751 



ARMY BALLADS 



Till the rock-bound bight before us, 

Like a dream-enchanted bay, 
Broke in brimming, golden goblets, 

Romped and roared and rolled away. 

You are not the moon that lingered 
Where the lake-side birches rise 

Tier on tier in gleaming whiteness 
O'er the star-reflected skies: 

Nor the harvest moon that mellowed 
Sea and cliff and hill and plain, 

Soothing care and disappointment — 
Bringing cherished days again. 

We renounce you — wan and withered — 
'Bove the walls of brick and stone: 

They may have you — they may keep you 
You are not the moon we've known. 



176' 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE DOUBTER 

LONG he pondered through the gloaming — long he won- 
dered through the night — 

Long the heavens shone and shimmered — purple, gray, 
refulgent, dim: 

Till the roaring chorus rumbled, till the little harpstrings 
trebled, 

Age on age in endless answer — spirit- voice or cheru- 
bim — 



"Gaze, Oh Doubter, o'er cathedral, church and temple, 

mosque and shrine, 
While the solemn millions mutter, 'Lo, the only faith is 

mine.' 

Creed on creed and seer and prophet — festival and fast and 

feast — 
Would ye learn the truth, Oh Doubter, from the mighty and 

the least? 



"Look then to the ancient Eastward where the bulky Buddhas 

squat, 
Fervently the flaccid faces praise the gods who know them 

not. . . . 

Out beyond the red-railed temple when the punk smoke curls 

away, 
Out beyond the last least star-beam lies the God to Whom 

they pray. 
12 [177] 



ARMY BALLADS 



"Look, Oh Doubter, to the Westward with the sun-baked 

plains aglare, 
Once Apache and Comanche held their savage service there. 
Form and figure — fetich, fire — bleeding gash and sacred 

sign, 
But a Manitou stood guarding — as he guardeth thee and 

thine. 

"Hear, Oh Doubter, cries of battle — watch the crimson 

banners toss — 
'La illaha il Allah' shrieks the Crescent to the Cross: 
High above the crashing squadrons rings the loud exultant 

yell 

(Cross or Crescent — learn ye nothing from the hated 

'Infidel'?) 

"Look, Oh Doubter, where the Forum marks the heart of 
mighty Rome; 

Ponder you when you discover different gods in every home? 

City — province — outer boundary — where the close- 
locked legions rove — 

There you find him crowned supernal — Jupiter — the 
great god Jove. 

"See, Oh Doubter, proud Olympus 'bove the pale /Egean blue 

Watching where the war-scarred triremes from the Helles- 
pont drive through. 

Count her many-headed Council — human hatred — love — 
abuse — 

But the haughty Hellenes tremble low before Almighty 
Zeus. 

[1781 



AND OTHER VERSES 



"Go, Oh Doubter, where a river built an Empire eons old. 
Scorn the village triads — scorn them — little gods of brass 

and gold. 
Scan papyri that was destined only Higher Castes might see, 
And behold — alone — stands Ammon — as he stands for 

thine and thee. 

"Dig, Oh Doubter, deep and deeper where the sand-choked 

cities lie, 
Till the Tigris and Euphrates fling their story to the sky: 
Till the quaint-carved figures answer (honor not the Lesser 

Things) — 
'Whom ye seek is He we worshipped — Lord of Lords and 

King of Kings.' " 

Died the rolling chorus softly — sank the spirit-voice away — 
Vanished night and spreading golden blazed the dawning 

light of day: 
And the Doubter stood Believer — saw Him — and in seeing 

knew — 

God and Allah — Zeus and Ammon — Jove — Jehovah — 
Manitou. 



M79J 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE SONG OF THE BLIND 

ACROSS the twilight stillness 

Creeps forth a silent song, 
(That naught but the ear of the angels hear) 

"How long — Oh Lord — how long?" 

From out our belted darkness 

We feel the evening breeze, 
We list to the low boughs bending 

And the click of the wind-turned leaves. 
We know the feathered flutter 

When the homing thrushes wing, 
We catch the hail of the rising quail — 

We hear the robins sing. 

A waft from the fields of clover — 

A whiff of the new-wet pine — 
The sweet-lipped honeysuckle, 

And the breath of the wind-swept brine 
We scent — and we are grateful — 

But oh for the days that were, 
When we saw the pine and the white-flecked brine, 

The clover and beech and fir. 

We feel the night air stirring — 

We know the hour well: 
And the western sky is blazing — 

(We hear our neighbors tell): 

[1801 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Oh yes, we've seen it spreading 

All crimson, gold and green, 
And the Star of Evening shining 

Through a lilac-tinted screen. 

We hear the crickets chirping, 

(The day is mostly done). 
Are the fire-flies aflitting? 

Are the candles one by one 
Appearing as they used to do 

Beyond the outer mark? — 
Where faint and gray the Milky Way 

Illumes the dotted dark. 

We used to see Orion 

In nightly combat there: 
We used to see the Scorpion — 

The Archer and the Bear: 
We used to see the shining Cross — 

All mystic, pale and white — 
Reflect the glow of the southern snow 

Across the arching night. 

We used to see the silent moon 

And the silver-flooded bay — 
Where waves careen in the molten sheen 

And slowly dance away — 
Till the Morning Star, a liquid lamp, 

Rose high and clear and cold, 
And the first faint hue of the dawn we knew 

Burst forth in a flood of gold. 
[1811 



ARMY BALLADS 



We're trying to be cheerful, Lord, 

In our infirmity, 
But oh for a sight of the white-ribbed foam 

As it leaps from the open sea: 
And oh for a look on the dark-green pines 

Against the virgin snow — 
Or stand by the drift where the sea-gulls lift 

And watch the afterglow. 

The heliotrope and mignonette 

We scent along the lane, 
But the rose's blush and the tulip's tint 

We may not know again. 
We hear the swallow overhead — 

We hear the lone loon's call — 
But we can't descry the sun-burst sky 

With the rainbow over all. 



Across the twinkling twilight 
Creeps forth the silent song — 

(That only the ear of the angels hear) 
"How long — Oh Lord — how long?" 

And back through the starry stillness, 
Where the last least embers glow, 

From ring to ring the far spheres fling 
The word of a God they know. 



[182J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



MARK TWAIN 

Died, April 21, 1910 

FRESH as the break o' the dawning — 

Clear as the sunlit pool; 
Ye came on a World of weariness — 

Lord of a kingly school. 

Shuttle and lathe and hammer — 

Mill and mine and mart — 
They paused awhile to linger and smile — 

Children again in heart. 

And a World of work and trouble 

Bent to their tasks anew, 
With strength reborn of the joyous morn 

Made manifest by you. 

Again the marts are silenced — 
There's a hush o'er land and sea — 

With only the sobs of a Nation, 
That loved and honored thee. 



1831 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE SUMMIT 

OUT of the murky valleys 

By the sweat of brow and brain; 
Out of the dank morasses — 

On to the spreading plain: 
Climbing the broken ranges — 

Falling and driving through, 
While the toil and tears of the countless years 

Bid ye back to the task anew. 

Glory and fame and honor 

Perched on the distant peak — 
Beckoning over land and sea 

To the gaze of the men who seek. 
Lifting the faltering footstep — 

Bathing the tired brow, 
Till out of the lanes of the sunken plains 

Ye come to the golden Now. 

Far spread the gleaming foot hills, 

And the deep, green vales between; 
Fair lift the distant coast-lines 

And the water's shifting sheen — 
And weary, ye pause on the Summit 

For the first victorious breath, 
When a hand at your elbow beckons — 

And ye know that the hand is Death. 

[184] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE LITTLE BRONZE CROSS 

THE VICTORIA CROSS IN THE CROWN JEWELS ROOM OF 
THE TOWER OF LONDON 

GLITTERING — glaring — glistening — 

In pompous, proud array; 
Maces and crowns and sceptres — 

Orders and ribbons gay: 
Bright in the white electric light; 

Caged and guarded there; 
Symbol and sign that the luck of line 

A king or a cad might wear. 

Blinking — blinding — blazing — 

The crown-topped hillock shone, 
And the gaping crowd in voices loud 

Coveted gilt and stone. 
Coveted idle gilt and stone, 

Though never stopped to stare 
At a little cross on the other side, 

Half hid in the alcove there. 

But slowly into the Tower 

Through the narrow windows crept, 
The Winds of the Outer Marches — 

The Winds that had seen and wept 
At Ladysmith — Trafalgar — 

Sebastopol — Lahore; 
Khartoum — Seringapatam — 

Kabul and Gwalior. 
[1851 



ARMY BALLADS 



The breath of the red Sirocco 

That sweeps from the white Soudan: 
The winds that beat through the Kyber Pass 

Where the blood of England ran: 
The winds that lift o'er the Great South Drift — 

O'er the veldt and the frozen plain — 
They stooped and kissed the little bronze cross, 

And went on their way again. 

And the blaze of crowns and sceptres — 

The power and pomp of kings; 
And the glare of the glittering Orders — 

The tinsel of Little Things, 
Paled in the ancient Tower — 

Faded and died alone, 
And only a cross — For Valour — 

With mystic brightness shone. 



186] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



KEATS 

Who, in a spirit of supersensitive self-abnegation, had placed upon his 
tombstone that here lay "one whose name is writ in water." 

IF your name is writ in water, 
As your humble tombstone saith 

Then it forms a crystal fountain 
Born to mock at mortal death. 

If your name is writ in water, 

'Tis the water of the stream 
Where the wise of all the nations 

Stoop to drink and stay to dream. 

If your name is writ in water, 

It has flowed into the sea 
Of the ages past and present — 

And of Immortality. 



[187] 



ARMY BALLADS 



CHRISTMAS 

CHILDISH prattle and merry laugh 

And the joy of Christmas-tide, 
And the old are young as the gay bells fling 

Their messages far and wide. 

Steaming pudding and lighted tree 

And the litter of scattered toys, 
We're all of us children again to-day 

Along o' the girls and boys. 

(Back behind the happy faces 

Lifts another looking through? 
Drop your merry mask an d tell me 

What does Christmas mean to you?) 

Laughter long of the joyous throng, 

Festival, fun and feast, 
And there's never a care in the echoing air 

In the joy of a year released. 

There's never a care in the echoing air — 

There's never a break in the song — 
And we rise with the rest when the children are blessed 

And the hours have galloped along. 



1881 



AND OTHER VERSES 



TUCK AWAY — LITTLE DREAMS 

HIS nose was pressed to the grindstone — 

His shoulders bent to the wheel, 
One of the numbered millions 

That bore no right to feel. 
Child of a callous calling — 

Waif of a willful day; 
I heard him murmur beneath his breath — 

"Tuck away — little dreams — tuck away." 

The loom and lathe and ledger — 

Pencil and square and drill — 
They saw his pain and they laughed again 

As hardened headsmen will. 
While 'neath their chains and chiding, 

Through the gloom of the endless day, 
I heard him murmur beneath his breath — 

"Tuck away — little dreams — tuck away." 

I saw him going down the hill — 

I saw him pause, and start, 
And bend again to the grinding grain — 

Lord of a broken heart. 
The sunset shadows lengthened — 

The earth was turning gray, 
As I caught the breath of the living death — 

"Tuck away — little dreams — tuck away." 



189 



ARMY BALLADS 



BLOODY ANGLE 

July 3, 1863; July 3, 1913 
THE SPIRIT OF BLOODY ANGLE SPEAKS 

I SAW them charge across the field 

The Stars and Bars above them, 
I saw them fall in hundreds — 

I heard the rebel yell. 
Behind me, 'neath the Stars and Stripes, 

I watched the blue coats pouring 
Into the men of Pickett 

The flaming vials of Hell. 

/ thought of Yorktown — Bunker Hill — 

Of Valley Forge and Monmouth. 
Again the Elders signed our birth — 

The great Bell tolled anew. 
And I closed my eyes and shuddered — 

And I looked to the Lord of Battle — 
And I prayed, "Forgive them Father, 

For they know not what they do." 

I saw them striding o'er the field — 

A gray-clad, aged remnant; 
I heard again across the plain 

The piercing rebel call. 
Behind me, 'neath a peaceful sky, 

I saw the blue coats standing — 
I saw the columns meet — clasped hands 

Above my battered wall. 
[190] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



I knew my blood-stained conscience — 

My reeling rowels were whitened. 
I saw the line of Sections 

Fade dim and die away. 
And Phainix-lihe, from fire and hate, 

A reunited nation 
Rose up to bless her children, 

Forever and for aye. 



191 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE MICROBE 

THE Microbe said — "There is no Man - 

I know there may not be: 
I cannot hear his voice that sings — 
I cannot see his arm that swings — 
I cannot feel his mind that flings 

My earth-born destiny." 

The Man-Child said — "There is no God 

I know there may not be: 
I cannot pause and meet His eye — 
I cannot see His form on high — 
I only know an empty sky 

Stares mocking back at me." 



I192J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE SEAS 

PURPLE seas and garnet seas, emerald seas and blue, 
Foaming seas and frothing seas spraying rainbow dew: 
Laughing seas and chaffing seas, gay in the morning light, 
Endless seas and bendless seas ayawn in the starless night. 

Seas that reach o'er the long white beach 
Where the clean-washed pebbles roll, 

And the nodding groves and the coral coves 
And the deep-toned voices toll. 

Seas that lift the broken drift 

And crash through the crag-lined fjord — 
Seas that cut the channel's rut 

With the thrust of a mighty sword. 

Seas that brood in silent mood 
When the midnight stars are set — 

Seas that roar as a charging boar 
Till the rails of the bridge run wet. 

Seas that foam where the porpoise roam 
And the spouting whale rolls high — 

Seas that use in the sunset hues 
Till all is a blended sky. 

Seas that reek with the golden streak 

And the flash of phosphor fire — 
Seas that glance in a moonlit dance 

With feet that never tire. 

[193] 



ARMY BALLADS 



Seas that melt in the mist-hung belt 

When sky and waters close — 
Seas that meet the day's retreat, 

Amber and gold and rose. 

Purple seas and garnet seas, emerald seas and blue, 
Foaming seas and frothing seas spraying rainbow dew: 
Laughing seas and chaffing seas, gay in the morning light, 
Endless seas and bendless seas ayawn in the starless night. 



1194J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



GOD'S ACRE 

I'M drivin' backward to the farm — 

The harvest day is done, 
And I'm passing by God's Acre 

At the setting o' the Sun: 
And I slow the homing horses — 

For I must soliloquize 
On that white crop standin' silent 

Against the crimson skies. 

I guess there's tares aplenty — 

And I guess there's lots o' chaff, 
And I guess there's many stories that 

Ed make a feller laugh. 
And I guess there's mebbe stories 

Ed make a feller weep, 
And the Angels kind o' whisper 

As around the stones they creep. 

Well, the Lord He up and planted — 

And the Harvest's come to head; 
(And He shore is most particular 

When all is done and said). 
But I reckon when it's sifted, 

And the Crop is in the bin, 
It'll be a durned hard sinner 

As the Lord ain't gathered in. 



195 



ARMY BALLADS 



GOLD 

FROM the green Cycadeaen ages, 

From the gloom of the Cambrian fen, 
From the days of the mighty mammoth 

And the years of the dog-toothed men, 
I've lifted ye clear to the summits — 

A toy of the upper air — 
I've dashed ye down to the pits again 

To laugh at your despair. 

I beckoned across the chasm 

To watch ye stumble in, 
And never a light to left or right 

On the crags of shame and sin. 
I called ye over mountains — 

I called ye over seas — 
And ye came in hosts from all the coasts 

To taste of the tainted breeze. 

Honor and King and Country — 

Sire and Seed and God — 
Ye have given all to the Siren's call 

When I but chose to nod. 
Ye have given all to the Siren's call — 

To the mock of the Siren's strain — 
Ye have made a choice and never a voice 

May bid ye back again. 

1196J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE LEGION 

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA REUNION ODE 

ACROSS the hill I saw them come — 

A deep-ranked serried legion. 
Across the hill I saw them come — 

The faithful cohorts there. 
Bank, bar and bench — mine, mart and trench 

From every clime and region, 
In manly might and majesty — 

And I knew the sight was fair. 

I saw them halt against the hill 

In loyal lines unbroken; 
I heard them answer to the Roll, 

Nor ever missed a name; 
For they foregathered past recall 

Were there by every token, 
As, 'cross the valley to a man 

The thundering echoes came. 

I saw them passing o'er the hill 

In serried ranks unbroken; 
'Twas stirrup touching stirrup 

In the sunshine and the rain. 
And good the pride to see them ride 

With strength renewed and spoken, 
Till love of Pennsylvania 

Should call them home again. 
[1971 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE ALTAR 

UPON THE APENNINE HILL OF ROME 

'NEATH the gardens of the Emperors 

Unnoticed you may pass 
A little altar nestling 

In the poppies and the grass. 
No gorgeous columns flank it, 

Where priest or Vestal trod — 
Only the carven words that sing — 

"To the Unknown God." 

The haughty praetor scanned it 

With humble, thoughtful air — 
The base-born slave espied it 

With sullen, frightened stare: 
The Roman matron touched it, 

And went upon her way — 
The gladiator saw it, 

And paused awhile to pray. 
Even the passing Caesar 

Bowed the imperial head, 
With faltering eyes that swept the skies 

In reverent fear and dread. 

The arching heavens domed it 

With royal lapis blue — 
The soft Campania's whisper 

Brought the sunshine and the dew: 
[198] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



The candles of the firmament 
Bent down their brightest rays, 

Where, midst their Pagan Pantheon 
A People paused to gaze. 



[I99J 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE SONG OF THE AEROPLANE 

I SCAN your mighty fortresses — 
I scorn your splendid fleets — 

I chart your chosen cities — 
Trenches and lanes and streets. 

No secret 'neath the heavens, 

No tale of land or sea, 
But bares the breast at my behest 

To stand revealed to me. 

I pierce the rainbow's bending, 

Uncovering fold on fold, 
Till I come to the arch's ending 

Where lies the pot of gold. 

I romp in the crimson sunset — 
I mount the wings o' the dawn — 

I glide o'er the brakes and marshes 
To laugh at the startled fawn. 

Never a mark may scorn me, 
From the noise of the rising quail 

To the topmost peak where the eagles seek 
Their home in the driving gale. 

Where lies the last least wilderness 
Man may not dare to know — 

Where stands the unsealed mountain, 
Fair crowned with virgin snow: 

[2001 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Where hide the hidden ages — 
Where flow the golden streams — 

Where lurks the land of Croesus 
Or the Lotus-land o' dreams: 

Up through the rushing firmament, 

With never halt or toll, 
I bear ye far till ye come where are 

The gates of the cherished goal. 

On the wonderful things I show you 

Lucullus-like ye dine — 
For the wonderful thoughts I bring you 

Ye love and are wholly mine. 



201 



ARMY BALLADS 



TO MY MOTHER 

SOME Ye bid to teach us, Lord, 

And some Ye bid to learn; 
And some Ye bid to triumph — 

And some to yearn and yearn: 
And some Ye bid to conquer 

In blood by land and sea; 
And some Ye bid to tarry here — 

To prove the love of Thee. 



[202] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



PACK YOUR TRUNK AND GO 

IF you meet a little fraulein 

As pretty as a rosebud, 

And eyes that make your silly heartstrings 

Thump and bump and glow — 
Don't stand and linger dawdlin' 
When you know you're getting maudlin, 
But call yourself a bally fool 

And pack your trunk and go. 

If the mocking, hollow laughter, 

Like the creaking of a rafter, 

Greets you — standing watching after 

At the Chance you didn't know: 
Sneering in its craven power 
Comes to seek you by the hour, 
Try the palm-grove, veldt or paddy — 

Pack your trunk and go. 

If the skies are rent asunder 
O'er some hasty little blunder, 
And you start to really wonder 

How wise some people grow: 
Let the empty carp-heads haggle — 
Let the teacup headwear waggle — 
Just tell 'em all to run along — 

And pack your trunk and go. 
[2031 



ARMY BALLADS 



If the silent blades are dipping 
And the green canoes are slipping 
By the birches white and dripping 

In the crimson afterglow: 
And the harvest moon is rising 
With a fullness most surprising — 
It's summer on the northern lakes 

So pack your trunk and go. 

If the Faith your Fathers taught you 
And the Land your Fathers wrought you, 
(The Land their blood has bought you), 

Shall hear the bugles blow — 
Don't watch in doubt and waiting, 
Don't stand procrastinating, 
But say good-bye with laughing eye 

And pack your trunk and go. 

Where the coral turns to cactus, 
And the cactus turns to harvest, 
And the harvest turns to hemlock, 

And the hemlock, turns to snow: 
By the phosphor-bordered beaches — 
By the endless, bendless reaches — 
You 11 find him where a Whisper bade him 

Pack his trunk an & S°- 



204] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE NEW BARD 

THEY had sung the song how very long 

Of Love and Faith and Truth: 
And they polished fine till it ran as wine, 

With never a spot uncouth. 

Mellow it spread with softened tread 

To the beat of the perfect time — 
Chastened and blest and colorless 

In stilted, vapid rhyme. 

Songs of love that the angels above 

Laughed as they bended near — 
Songs of fight that the men of might 

Sneering stopped to hear — 

Till a stronger people rising — 

They cast the cant aside, 
And they lifted free for the open sea 

Where the plunging porpoise ride. 

For there lifted free from the open sea 

The voice of a bard who knew, 
And he brought them tales from the spouting whales 

Where only the lean gulls flew. 

And he brought them tales from the coral bight 

Where the lilac waters spend, 
And the ceaseless sift of the phosphor drift 

Where the palm-lined beaches bend. 
[2051 



ARMY BALLADS 



But better than all through the endless pall 

His clear-shot wordings ran, 
And the tale he bore by peace and war 

Was the heart of his fellow-man. 

Under the ragged raiment — 

Under the silken sheen — 
They caught the worth of the spinning Earth, 

And the black and the gold between. 

For 'neath a coat of roughest hide, 

And 'neath the rugged brink, 
He covered whole the yearning Soul — 

The Soul of the Men Who Think. 

The Little Things with mystic wings 

That flitting merrily, 
Bind West and East and best and least, 

From sea to outer sea. 

The Little Things with mystic wings, 

Hidden the eons through — 
From his Children's gaze he swept the haze, 

And his Children seeing — knew 

Each throbbing lane of pulse and brain — 

The far-flung Brotherhood: 
The thoughts untold and the hopes unrolled — 

And they answered him where they stood: 
[206] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



"In measures strong we've heard your song, 
And the warm blood mounts again; 

And we scorn the beat of the stifled street 
And strike for the open main. 

"Far back — far back — we leave the plains 

To the little hurrying hosts, 
And over the seas in the scud-wet breeze 

We lift for the Land o' Ghosts. 

"For the Land o' Ghosts and the laughing coasts 

And the goal we hope to win — 
Though ne'er we reach the beckoning beach, 

Ye have let us look within. 



"Though ne'er we reach the beckoning beach - 
Though it fades ere we leap to land, 

Ye have made us rife with the strength of life 
Ye have spoke . . . and we understand." 



1207] 



ARMY BALLADS 



WOMAN 

A REPLY TO RUDYARD KIPLING 

"A WOMAN is only a woman" — 

These are the words you spoke. 
And you deemed they were bright and caustic 

And you thought you had made us a joke. 
Well, we who have been in the Tropics, 

Who've noted the Eastern "way," 
'May be we should half forgive you 

For some of the things you say. 

When the Cave-man spat on his neighbor 

And smote him hip and thigh — 
When the Bronze-man slivered the boulders 

Where the tin and the copper lie — 
When the Iron-man reared him bridges 

And engines of steam and steel — 
What was the Light that lifted them, 

And bade them to live and to feel? 

When the sunshine turns to shadow — 

And the shadow turns to night; 
When faith and fair intention 

Have fought them a failing fight; 
When Hell has drawn nearest — 

And God is very far — 
Mayhap ye then can tell us who 

The Ministering Angels are? 
[2081 



AND OTHER VERSES 



A rose is only a flower — 

Can ye bring us the bud more rare? 
"A woman is only a woman" — 

Can ye show us the work more fair? 
Fathom ye all Creation — 

Look ye without surcease, 
And when ye are weary and broken, kneel 

To your Master's masterpiece. 



209] 



ARMY BALLADS 



FATHER TIME 

WHEN your doctors fail to render — 

When your lotions fail to heal — 
When the salted scar is burning — 

When aturtle turns the keel: 
When the lights are lost to leeward — 

When the last least hope is gone — 
Then I call ye — Oh my children — 

As a Mother calls her spawn. 

By no magic may I do it — 

By no sudden quick surcease: 
Slow, so slow, ye cannot know it 

Do I bring ye your release. 
As the blackened heavens soften 

To the morning's growing gray, 
And the gray spreads gold and crimson 

Till in splendor breaks the day: 

So by little and by little, 

That ye may not know or see, 
Do I soothe the salted searing — 

Do I bid the shadows flee — 
Do I weld the torn heart-cord 

No surgeon art may heal, 
Till ye lift the fastened latchet 

And go forth in laughing weal. 
[2101 



AND OTHER VERSES 



From Eastward and from Westward 

I call my broken clan; 
We may not meet in lane or street 

Or greet us man and man: 
But slowly spread my wide-leagued wings 

And falling tenderly, 
I wrap my troubled Earth-spawn 

Unto the heart of me. 



[2111 



ARMY BALLADS 



MY LOVES* 

OH do you wish to know my Loves? 

Then you must come with me 
To every land of all the lands 

And the waves of every sea. 

My love she nestles to my side, 

Nor careth who discern, 
For she's the breeze o' the Southern Seas 

Where the egg-spume waters turn. 

My love she wraps me in her arms 

With a crushing grasp and wild, 
For she was born o' the six-months mom, 

A strong, tumultuous child. 

My love needs throw a kiss to me, 
And the kiss is the rainbow spray, 

Then laughing in glee, coquettishly, 
She lightly trips away. 

My love she comes with open arms, 

A dazzling beauty bold — 
Lilac and rose and amber, 

Scarlet and blazing gold. 

*The loves here referred to are picked at random from among the 
many of the World Wanderer. The second stanza refers to the breeze of 
the South Seas; the third stanza to the North Wind; the fourth stanza to 
the Sea; the fifth stanza to the Sunrise; the sixth stanza to the Sunset. 

[212] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



My love she gently beckons me 

And folds me nearer yet, 
A blushing maid with crown of jade 

Where the first pale stars are set. 

Oh do you wish to know my Loves? 

Then you must come with me 
To every land of all the lands 

And the waves of every sea. 



[2131 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE FORUM 

HERE strode triumphant Caesars 

Returning honored home: 
Here rose the gorgeous temples 

Of proud imperial Rome. 

Here burned the Vestal Fire 

The endless seasons through: 
Here reared the haughty Arches 

The far-flung Nations knew. 

Lord of the last least horizon — 
King of the Outer Seas — 
Where beat a heart, where stood a mart, 
There bended suppliant knees — 

To Thee — Resplendent Sovereign — 

Cradled among the hills, 
Who still through the countless centuries 

The wondering watcher thrills. 

Only a Tale of the Ages — 
Power and Pride and Death — 

And the afterlight of an Empire's might 
And the soft Campania s breath. 

Only the crumbled marble, 
And Memory's lingering wine, 

And the grass and the scarlet poppies 
And clover and dandelion. 

[214] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE HERITAGE 

Dedicated to the memory of my great-great-grandfather, Captain 
John Garrett, of the First Regiment, Delaware Militia, 1777-80, and the 
Second Regiment, Delaware Militia, 1780-81, of the Revolutionary Army, 
and also a member of the Delaware Legislature in 1785; and to that of my 
great-great-great-grandfather, Captain Jonathan Cowpland, son of Judge 
Caleb Cowpland, and commanding, at various times during the War of the 
Revolution, the United States ships "Fame," "Basilisk" and "Hawk."* 

FULL well they tilled the barren soil — 
Full well they sowed the seed — 

Full well they held by life and life 
The seal of the title deed. • 



From Bunker Hill to Yorktown 
They waged a sacred fray: 

Oh Sons of Iron Men give ye not 
Your heritage away. 

By commerce, mart and culture 
Ye've raised a mighty state; 

But 'ware the pampered spirit, 
Ere ye 'ware the worst too late. 

By commerce, mart and culture 
Thrive ye forevermore, 

But hold ye to the Iron Age — 
The Iron Age of War. 

Additional note at end of volume. 
[215] 



ARMY BALLADS 



With rugged heart and sinew — 

With spirit stern and high, 
Keep ye the ways o' warrior days — 

The days that may not die. 

Keep ye the ways o* warrior days, 

Maintain the armor bright, 
For where ye've raised your fathers blazed 

Hold ye their honor while. 

That through the unborn years to come — 

Unpampered, age on age — 
Shall guarded stand their promised land — 

Our Sacred Heritage. 



[2161 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE ADJUSTING HOUR 

JUST the Adjusting Hour, 

With nobody else around, 
And you sort o* straighten things a bit, 

Beginning right down at the ground. 

Just the Adjusting Hour, 
When plans have gone askew, 

And you stand with your back to the fire 
And only your God and you. 

Just the Adjusting Hour, 

Pondering very slow, 
And you lay the firm foundations 

And you pray that they will grow — 

Tall and strong and splendid — 

That they who run may see, 
What the Adjusting Hour 

Has given to you and me. 



1217J 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE OUTPOSTERS 

WE'VE tele-a~teled here and there 

Whence all the breezes fan, 
From Cuba clear to Tokio 

And back to Hindustan. 

We've journeyed out of Agra 

To see the Taj Mahal 
Rise mystic white in the moonlit night 

Above the Jumna wall. 

Along the plains of Java 
We've grasped you by the hand, 

And watched among Tosari's hills 
The lace Tjemaras stand: 

Or Aden's great cathedral rocks — 

High — majestic — bare — 
Or Karnak's columns rising sheer 

Through the clear Egyptian air. 

We've laughed with you in Poeroek Tjahoe,* 

In the heart of Borneo, 
Ere we hit the trail to northward 

Where the lesser rivers flow: 

* Pronounced Poorook Jow. 

[2181 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Where the angry Moeroeng cuts the hills 

And the endless jungles rise, 
And the Dyak kampongs nestle 'neath 

The speckless, fleckless skies. 

By the myriad ship-lights stretching through 

The Roads of Singapore, 
By the crooked, winding, white-walled streets 

Of burning Bangalore: 

By the mighty, gilded Shwe Dagon 

Aglitter above the trees, 
Where the tiny ti bells tinkle 

In the sough of the sunset breeze: 

From where the terrace-sculptured gates 

Of the great Sri Rangam rise, 
To Bangkok's triple temple roofs, 

Red-gold against the skies: 

By crowded, sewerless Canton — 
By Hong Kong's towering lights — 

By the gorgeous Rajputana stars 
That blazon the blue-black nights: 

We've met you, Men of the Millionth Mark — 

Outposters — far — alone — 
Beyond the glut of the cities' rut, 

And we claim you for our own. 
[219] 



ARMY BALLADS 



(Beyond the glut of the cities' rut 
And the roar of the rolling cart, 

Beyond the blind of the stifled mind 
And the hawking, haggling mart.) 

And some of you were "rotters" — 
And some were "18 fine" — 

But on the whole — we saw your soul 
Oh outbound kin of mine. 

So stand toe pledged and hand in hand 
By every ocean, gulf and land, 

Stout hearts and humble knees: 
Oh men of the Outer Reaches — 
Oh men of the palm-lined beaches — 
Oh men where the ice-pac\ bleaches — 

Oh Brethren o' the far-flung seas. 



220] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



WONDERING 

LEANING on the midnight rail, 

Looking o'er the sea, 
Winking at the little stars, 

While they wink at me. 
Wondering how it happened 

Ages long ago, 
Wondering why I'm here to-night 

Wondering where I'll go. 



Wondering how the Scorpion 

Bends his mighty tall, 
Wondering if the Archer's aim 

Makes Antares quail: 
Wondering why Australia's Crown 

Happened to be made, 
Wondering if I really ought 

Not to be afraid. 



Wondering if the blackened sea 

Ever has a bend, 
Wondering if the Milky Way 

Ever has an end, 
Wondering why the Southern Cross 

Has an arm askew, 
Wondering lots o' funny things, 

(I wonder, wouldn't you?) 
[2211 



ARMY BALLADS 



Wondering where He's watching from 

Wondering if He'd see 
Anything so very small 

Just as you or me? 
Wondering and wondering — 

But still the echoes fail — 
And so I'm left awondering, 

O'er the silent rail. 



[2221 



AND OTHER VERSES 



BATTLESHIPS 

Addressed to "little-navy" Congressmen. 

FOOLS there lived 'when the Nations sprang newborn from the 
arms of God — 

Fools there'll live when the Nations melt in the mold of the 

mar f^less sod. 
Fools there are and fools there were and fools there'll ever be ~ 
But none hke the fools whom the ages teach, and then refuseto see. 

With Other Peoples building them in squadrons - 
The Other Peoples laden down with debt — 

In the richest of the Nations you'll cut appropriations, 
But the Day of Reckoning - have ye counted yet? 

Oh be careful, Oh be meager, Oh My Brothers- 
Weigh the cost, and gasp, and pare it down again; 

Till the twelve-inch children roar and the troopships grate 
the shore 
And you hear the coming tread of marching men. 

Then My Brothers, Oh my wise far-seeing Brothers, 
Build a Fleet and build it swiftly overnight- 

Ah truly ye who knew it all these years can surely do it, 
ror ye and only ye alone are right. 

Go gaze across your growing, waving acres - 

Go gaze adown the peaceful, busy street- 
May the prestige of your town be your all-in-all renown, 

And scorn the men who bid you, "BUILD THE FLEET." 

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ARMY BALLADS 



Or whine about your irrigation ditches — 
Much they'll help a scarred and battle-riven land. 

Oh they'll do a monstrous earning when the crops they grow 
are burning — 
Because you would not hear the clear command. 

With the jealous nations standing to the eastward — 
And the Sneaking Cur that watches on the west — 

You'll bargain, skimp and whine till the gray hulls lift the 
line, 
And your children stand betrayed and confessed. 

For the sake of saving five or fifty millions — 

For the sake of "politics" or local greed — 
Will you brand yourselves arch traitors to the Nation - 

You, the sons of men who served us in our need? 

Will you risk a land your Sires died to bring you — 

A land our faithful Fathers fell to save, 
By the bleaching bones of Valley Forge and Monmouth 

Or the crimson flood the Bloody Angle gave? 

Will you see one half the Nation raped and burning - 
Will you learn War's callous, lurid, livid wrath 

By the wailing 'long the wayside, by the ashes of the cities, 
Ere your gathered army flings across their path? 

You may strut and boast our boundless might and power - 
You may call our race the Chosen of the Lord — 

But if your town they raze - and if your home s ablaze 
You will wake and learn the Kingdom of the Sword. 

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AND OTHER VERSES 



You will wake and learn the word your Fathers taught you - 
You will wake and learn the truth — but all too late: 

By the shrieking shrapnel's crying -by the homeless, 
wronged and dying — 
You shall count what you begrudged to Guard the Gate. 



[225J 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE AMERICAN FLAG 

It should be needless to note that the persons here addressed do not 
comprise the whole American people, but a certain distinctive type. 

OH little men and sheltered — 

Oh fatted pigs of a sty, 
Through the Star Spangled Banner ye calmly sit, 

Nor see the wrong, nor the why, 
And ye stand with your hats on your thoughtless 
heads, 

When the Flag of the Nation goes by. 

Has the lust of the dollar gripped you 

Till the fetid brain's grown cold, 
Till ye forget the days that are set 

And the glorious deeds of old — 
And the Song and the Passing Colors 

Are drowned in a flood of gold? 

Awake from your listless lethargy — 

Arise and understand 
The battle-hymn of your fathers — 

And the Flag of your Fatherland — 

As it rose to the hum of the feet that come 

To the drum and the bugle's call; 
As it tasted the dregs of raw reverse — 

As it rushed through the breach in the wall: 

[226] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



As it fell again on the gore-wet plain 

Till new hands swung it high — 
As it dipped in rest to East and West 

Where it watched its Children die: 

As it swept anew o'er the shotted blue, 
And the great gulls reeled in fright; 

As it bore the brave 'neath the whispering wave 
To the Squadron's hushed Goodnight: 

As it mounted sheer 'mid cheer on cheer, 

Till, far o'er land and sea, 
It gave each fold to the sunlight's gold — 

And the name of Victory. 

Then on your feet when the first proud strain 

Of the Anthem rolls on high — 
And see that ye stand uncovered 

To the Colors passing by: 
And pray to your God for strength to guard 

The Flag ye glorify. 



[2271 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE GREAT DOCTORS 

CHIEFS of all the Conquerors — 

Kings above the Kings — 
Fame beyond all earthly fame 

Where the censer swings. 

Brave and strong and silent — 

Patient, cautious, calm — 
E'en as the ministering angels — 

Even as Gilead's Balm — 

They come; the quiet god-men, 
Where hope has fled apace, 

And the Reaper's scythe is swaying 
Across the ashen face. 

No miracle proclaims them — 
No thundering cheer and drum — 

As creeps the light of the starlit night 
God's Emissaries come. 

A touch to the raveled life-cord 
Or ever it snaps in twain; 

And as the light of the starlit night, 
They silently pass again. 



[228] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE DREAMER AND THE DOER 

THE Dreamer saw a vision 

High in th' empyrean blue, 
And slowly it passed until at last 

He called to the Man he knew — 
"Look, thou Dolt of the Blinded Heart — 

Slave of Rod and Rule — 
And drink of the wine of my sight divine — 

Oh churl of a plodding school!" 

The Doer he checked and plotted 

And hammered and pieced again, 
But his eyes they were on the things that he saw 

The Things of the Earth-bound Men: 
And he called to the Dreamer passing — 

"Oh stop, thou fool, and see 
On water and land the work of my hand, 

For the service of such as thee." 

"Dolt," said the Dreamer, "ye stole my dream 
I showed where the lightnings ran. ..." 

"Fool," said the Doer, "but for my toil — 
Ye'd still be a Stone-age Man." 



(2291 



ARMY BALLADS 



SPAIN 

MIGHT and far-flung power 

And we call the vision Rome, 
Where the close-locked legions trample 

And the triremes cut the foam. 
Grace and regal beauty — 

And Athena's temples rise 
Above the fertile Attic plains 

And blue j£gean skies. 
But when, in wanton whispers 

Creeps o'er the tired brain 
The word Romance, there falls the trance 

The spell of olden Spain. 



The humdrum of the city 

The workshop and the street, 
They gently slip behind us, 

As glide our tired feet 
O'er the pavements of Sevilla, 

Where the Grandees pass again 
To ogle in the balconies 

The matchless eyes of Spain. 

Once more the somersaulting bells 
In the great square tower ring — 

Once more the sword and cowl draw back 
'The King — make way — The King!" 

[2301 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Sevilla — Mother of a world 

Of pride and golden gain, 
And greed and love and laughter 

Of Periclean Spain. 

Once more o'er purple ocean 

Or coral-locked lagoon, 
We watch the bowsprit cutting 

The pathway of the moon. 
The long white beach, the swaying palms' 

Shifting silver sheen — 
And the flickering flares of the flimsy fleet 

Where the spear-poised fishers lean. 

The low-hung, skimming scuppers — 

The flaunting skull and bones — 
The buccaneer on his poop-deck 

Roaring in thunder tones 
To a swarthy, ill-begotten crew — 

As slow the daylight dies, 
And he lifts with a smile the chartless isle 

Where the buried treasure lies. 

The lilt of living music 

Caressing heart and brain: 
Harp, guitar and mandolin 

In languorous, limpid strain. 
The fluttering fan — the furtive glance — 

The black mantilla's reign — 
And the Captains bold who drop their gold 

To bask in the eyes of Spain. 
1231] 



ARMY BALLADS 



The towering galleons plunging 

Thrice-tiered above the foam: 
The ringing round-shot roaring, 

And the crash of the hit gone home: 
The yard-arms staggering under, 

Where, scorning the iron rain 
And showing its fangs to a parting world, 

Goes down the Lion of Spain. 

When the clattering city cloys you 

With the stress of its strident call — 
When practical, calculating Things 

Are domineering all — 
When your clamped mind in its weariness 

To Romance turns again, 
Seek ye the Andalusian crags — 
The flare of the gold and crimson flags — 
And the scented breath where the night wind drags 

Through the Isles of the Spanish Main. 



1232) 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE LIGHTS 

THE fair-weather lights are gleaming 

Across a tranquil main, 
By beam and beam so bright they seem 

A laughing, endless chain. 

The foul-weather lights are few and far — 

Nor flash nor leap nor fail — 
But slowly burn where the billows churn 

In the teeth of the driving gale. 

Oh the fair-weather lights o'er the sheltered bights 

Are welcome sights to see — 
But the foul-weather lights o' stormy nights, 

Are the Lamps of the Years to be. 



|233| 



ARMY BALLADS 



THE FAIREST MOON 

OH ye who tell of the harvest moon 

Above the waving grain, 
Oh ye who tell of the silent moon 

That glitters across the plain. 

Oh ye who tell of the mountain moon 

That lifts each peak and crag, 
Oh ye who tell of the ocean moon 

Where the long, black shadows drag. 

Oh ye who tell of the silver moon 

In wanton ecstasy, 
Ye never tell of the fairest moon — 

The fairest moon to me. 

'Tis well the tale of the crescent moon 

Above the lake-side pine, 
And good is your song of the circling moon 

Where snowy meadows shine. 

And fair's the lilt of the gleaming moon 

Where dazzling rapids leap: 
For wondrous bright is the fairy sight 

Of the soul of a World asleep. 

But a waning moon, just half a moon, 

With a rough and ragged rim, 
And a mystic light that makes the night 

All bright but doubly dim. . . . 
1234J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Low down, low down in a starry sky, 
O'er the shift of a swinging sea 

With a mellow fold o' silver gold, 
Reveals my moon to me. 



[2351 



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THE STRIVER 

THE trumpets bore his name afar 

By East and West anew, 
Where, roaring through the riven tape 

The sweeping Conqueror drew. 
And East and West they rose and blest 

With laurel wreath and cheers, 
As they had done 'neath every sun 

Adown the countless years. 

The trumpets echoed far ahead — 

A faltering footfall trailed, 
Till broken flesh that called on flesh 

Stumbled and rocked and failed. 
A well run dry — a sightless sky — 

Where mind and matter part: 
A quivering frame — a nameless name - 

Wrapped in a lion's heart. 

The nearer stars they winded him — 

The farther planets heard; 
The outer spheres of all the spheres 

Took up the Master's word. 
They lifted him and buoyed him 

And bore him gently in 
To the Goal of Lost Endeavor — 

In the Land of Might-have-been. 

[2361 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE OLD MEN 

YE sing a song of the young men 

In the pride of an early strength, 
Ye sing a song of the young men 

And ye give it goodly length; 
/ sing a song of the old men — 

Of the men on a homeward tack 
And a steady wheel and an even keel 

That never a wind may rack. 

Ye sing a song of the strong men 

In the birth of a splendid youth, 
Ye sing a song of the strong men, 

And ye sing mayhap in truth; 
But I — I sing of the old men 

Who've weathered the outer seas, 
And lifting the bark through the growing dark 

Bear back in the sunset breeze. 



Ye sing a song of the young men 

Ere they reach the second stake, 
And a name to choose and a name to lose 

In the scruff of the rudder's wake; 
But I — I sing of the old men 

In the glow of the tempered days, 
Whose chartings show the paths to go 

Through the mesh of a million ways. 
[237J 



ARMY BALLADS 



Ye sing a song of the strong men 

In the flush of the first fair blow, 
Ye sing a song of the strong men 

Or ever the end ye know; 
But I — I sing of the old men — 

Time-tested — weathered brown - 
Who unafraid the port have made, 

Where all brave ships go down. 



2381 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE FOUR-ROADS POST 

THEY had come at the Spirit's bidding — 

Who bore the right to seek — 
And the hungry he brake and gave them bread, 

And strength he gave to the weak. 

Honor and Gold and Triumph — 

Love and Land and Fame — 
As they deserved to each he served — 

And they left and blessed his name. 

And only one was waiting 

Before the Giver's knee, 
And He said, "Oh spawn of a troubled Earth — 

What may I do for thee?" 

And the suppliant cried, "Good Master 

I asked nor fame nor gold — 
I only seek the bygone peak 

Where I saw the lands unfold. 

"I only seek the bygone peak 

Where every pathway sung, 
And every sea had a ship for me, 

And all the World was young. 

"Oh let me know the place once more, 

The parting of the lane — 
Oh give me back the Four-Roads Post, 

That I may choose again." 



239 



ARMY BALLADS 



The Spirit gazed across the vale 

And his eyes had a tender glow, 
And his voice ran mild as ye speak to a child, 

Wondrous soft and low: 

"Little Waif of a Later Day, 
Where the unthought hours flee, 

The only treasure I have not 
Is the boon that ye ask of me. 

"I can give you balms and riches — 

I can ease you of your pain — 
But I cannot give the Four-Roads Post — 

That ye may choose again." 



[240] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY 

SING me a song of Chivalry, 

The little Man-child said. 
Of days of old when knights were bold 

And fields of honor red. 
Take me far to a maiden's tower 

And the black traducer slain; 
To Honor and Truth and Faith forsooth — 

Oh carry me back again. 

So the Waif of Chance he wafted him 

And set him down apace, 
But never a field of tourney, 

And never a knight of grace. 
He set him down where the whipping flames 

Leap red athwart the sky, 
And the crashing wall that forms a pall 

Where the fire-fighters lie. 

The Waif of Chance he wafted him 

Across a broken main, 
And the great ship's roll like a foundering soul 

Groaned to the depths again: 
But over the breast of the ocean's crest 

The plunging life-boats neared, 
And the shout that burst was "Women first," 

And the men that were left — they cheered. 
1241] 



ARMY BALLADS 



Where the staggering brethren dragged their loads 

From the mouth of the stricken mine, 
Where the hand at the throttle never flinched 

At the sight of the open line; 
By curb and forge and death-hung gorge — 

By river, sea and plain — 
The Waif of Chance the Man-child brought, 

And bade him gaze again. 

Honor and Faith and Sacrifice 

In the midst of the city's roil — 
Faith and Honor and Sacrifice 

Where the frontier-hewers toil: 
And the Man-child slowly knelt and clasped 

The Waif about the knee, 
And he murmured low, "Oh now I know — 

The Days of Chivalry." 



(242J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



PHANTOM-LAND 

COME board the boat for Phantom-land 

Come join the merry crew; 
Come board the boat for Phantom-land 

That lies acalling you. 

Oh throw away the red-shot day — 

The broken, weary night — 
And come with me across the sea 

To where you lift the light 
Of Phantom-land of Phantom-land, 

Uprising from the blue, 
With mountains green and castles 

That stand acalling you. 

It doesn't cost a single cent 

To join the joyous band; 
You needn't spend a penny 

To reach the sunny land; 
So come away at close o' day 

Or in the morning dew, 
To Phantom-land to Phantom-land 

That lies acalling you. 

And they who once have been there — 
Who've trod the laughing hills, 

They're always going back there — 
From roil and toil and ills: 

[2431 



ARMY BALLADS 



And when they come to Earth again — 
(I cross m' heart, it's true), 

They sing the praise o' Phantom-land 
That lies acalling you. 



12441 



AND OTHER VERSES 



THE ROSE 

HE plucked the Rose in anger — 

The Rose across his path — 
And the thorns they cut and tore him 

And scorned him in his wrath. 

He plucked the Rose in hauteur 

And pride no bond could bind, 
And the Rose it tossed its royal head 

Nor deigned to look behind. 

He plucked the Rose in sadness — 
And the red Rose seeing, knew: 

And it gave its sweetest incense, 
And its petals shone with dew. 

He plucked the Rose in gladness — 

Nor sorrow's least alloy — 
And the Rose it shook its leaves and laughed 

In its tumultuous joy. 

By all the devious ways he came — 

By every mood and whim; 
And as he stooped to gather — 

The Rose gave back to him. 



1245] 



ARMY BALLADS 



PATRIOTISM 

ENDS of the riven Nation 

I've drawn near and near, 
Duty and love and honor 

I've garnered year by year; 
Oh fair they tell o' the Lasting Peace, 

And the Final Brotherhood, 
But I call my sons to the signal guns, 

And I know that the call is good. 

Mongol and Teuton and Slav and Czech — 

Saxon and Celt and Gaul — 
Out of the mire at my desire 

They leapt to the battle-call. 
The Mean and the Low and the Goodly — 

Murderer, saint and thief — 
From city and plow with lofty brow 

They rode to My Belief. 

The Mean and the Low and the Goodly 

O'er the fields of carnage swept, 
And for those that returned, the laurel crown — 

And for those that stayed — they wept. 
And the Mother showed her stripling 

The place where the foeman ran, 
And he pledged to the skies with yearning eyes - 

And the pledge was the pledge of a man. 
( 246 J 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Over the field of battle 

The well aimed arrows flew, 
Over a sea of wreckage 

The bending galleons blew; 
And where the arrow found him, 

Or the round-shot rent atwain, 
He fell — but turned in the falling 

To bless his Land again. 

Ends of the riven Nation 

I've drawn near and near, 
Duty and love and honor 

I've garnered year by year; 
Oh fair they tell o' the Lasting Peace, 

And the Final Brotherhood, 
But I call my sons to the signal guns 

And I tyiow that the call is good. 



[247J 



ARMY BALLADS 



KELVIN 

NEVER a mark of Mortal Man 

But ye delved to a greater depth — 
Never a truth of Mortal Truths 

But ye stirred it where it slept 
Never a veil but ye drew aside, 

Till ye came where the Wide Ways part, 
And ye bowed a head as ye lowly said, 

"Oh God, how fair Thou art." 



(2481 



PART FOUR 

THE DYAK CHIEF 



1249] 



THE DYAK CHIEF 

HEAR ye a tale from the deepest depths of the heart of Borneo, 
Where the Moeroeng leaps in wild cascades, 
And the endless green of the jungle fades, 
And night shuts down on the fern-choked glades 

Where the \ampong hearth-fires glow. 

Listen, Oh White Man, that ye hear 

The words of a Dyak chief, 
Till ye learn the weight of the Dyak hate 

And the depth of the Dyak grief. 

Once in the days of my strength and pride 

I loved a kampong maid, 
And very old was the tale I told 

'Neath the lace of the jungle shade. 

And very old was the tale I told, 

Though born year by year; 
Till I thought of the headless waist I bore — 

And I drew the maiden near: 

And I pledged her there by the tree-banked stream 

Where the rippling shadows flee, 
"None but the skull of a kampong chief 

Shall hang at my belt for thee." 
[251] 



ARMY BALLADS 



II 
When over the palm-topped endless hills 

First broke the golden day, 
The taintless breeze in the highest trees 

Laughed as I swung away. 

Laughed as I climbed the mountain path 

Or skirted the river's bank, 
And the great lianes sung to me 

As on my knees I drank. 

And the great lianes softly swayed 
And twisted in snake-like guise, 

Till I lost their sight in the leafy height 
Where peeped the purple skies. 

And down through the dank morasses 

I leapt from clod to clod, 
O'er fallen trunk and lifted root 

And the ooze of the sunken sod — 

Where the tiny trees stand tall and straight, 

A mass of mossy green, 
And lighting all like a fairy hall 

The sunlight sifts between. 

Day by day through stress and strain 
I pressed my marches through; 

Day by day through strain and stress 
The weary hours flew. 
[252] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



And silent, from the dank brown leaves 

As swept my hurrying tread, 
The little waiting leeches rose 

And caught me as I sped. 

Till my feet and ankles bled in streams — 

But I let them clinging stay, 
And they swelled to seven times their size 

And glutted and fell away. 

For never time had I to stop, 

And so they sucked their fill, 
As I splashed through the knee-deep rivers 

And clambered the jungle hill. 

And only night could halt me, 
And the stars in their proud parade, 

They bade me look to the fray before, 
And back to the kampong maid. 

Ill 

Weary at last I reached a height 

That showed a fertile glade, 
Where the bending trees of the river brink 

Leaned out o'er a wild cascade. 

And white above the waving banks 
The towering giants rose high, 

And tossed their heads in hauteur, 
Full-plumed across the sky. 
[2531 



ARMY BALLADS 



And waved their long lianes 

A hundred feet in air, 
And shook their clinging vine-leaves 

As a Dyak maid her hair. 

And down by the Moeroeng's turning 

The river rock rose sheer, 
And out of the cracks the tasseled palms 

Like mighty plumes hung clear. 

While still, behind a boulder, 
Where the little ripples gleam, 

A fisher sat in his sunken proa 
In the midst of the gliding stream. 

Only the crash of the underbrush 

Told where a hunter sped, 
And I caught the glint of the morning sun 

On the blow-spear's glittering head. 

Only the crack of a mandauw 

Felling the little trees, 
And the murmuring call of a water-fall 

That echoed the jungle breeze. 

But more to me than the hunter — 
The fisher and stream and hill — 

Was the kampong deep in the hollow, 
Nestling dark and still. 
[254] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Dark and still in the valley, 

A single house and strong; 
Perched on piles two warriors high 

And a hundred paces long. 

And straight before the tall-stepped door 

The mighty chief poles rose, 
And seemed to shake their tasseled tops 

In warning to their foes — 

As they who slept beneath them 
Once did, when in their might — 

With shining steel and sinews — 
Full-armed they sprang to fight. 

Long from the hill-side trees I watched 

The water women go 
Back and forth to the river bank, 

Chattering to and fro. 

Long from the hill-side trees I watched 
Till — straight as the windless flame — 

With spear and shield and mandauw, 
The kampong chieftain came. 

Full well I knew the waist-cloth blue 
Where hung each shriveled head. 

Full well I saw the eyes of awe 
That followed in his tread. 

[2551 



ARMY BALLADS 



Full well I heard the spoken word — 
The quick obedience fanned — 

And I felt the trance of the royal glance 
Of the Lord of the Jungle-land. 

Lightly he scorned the proffered guard 
As he strode the upland grade, 

And softly I drew my mandauw 
And fingered the sharpened blade. 

Was it for game or a head he came 
To the hills in the golden morn? 

But little I cared as the heavens stared 
On the day that my hope was born. 

For over and over I muttered — 
As I slunk from tree to tree — 

"None but the head of a kampong chief 
Shall hang at my belt for thee." 

(None but the head of a kampong chief 
For you my belt shall grace, 

Taken by right in fairest fight — 
Full-fronted — face to face.) 

And I found a leafy clearing 

That lay across his path, 
And I stood to wait his coming — 

The chieftain in his wrath. 
[2561 



AND OTHER VERSES 



As the moan before the wind-storm 

That breaks across the night, 
Were the rhythmic, muffled foot falls 

Of the war-lord come to fight. 

The crack of little branches — 

The branches pushed away — 
And the Scourge of the Moeroeng Valley 

Sprang straight to the waiting fray. 

'Twas then I knew the stories true 

They told of his fearful fame, 
As through my shield a hand's-length 

His hurtling spearhead came. 

Stunned I reeled and a moment kneeled 
To the shock of the blinding blow, 

But I rose again at the stinging pain 
And the wet of the warm blood's flow. 

And I staggered straight and I scorned to wait 
And I swept my mandauw high — 

But ere my stroke descended 
He smote me athwart the thigh. 

As the lean rattan at the workman's knife — 
As the stricken game in the dell — 

As a bird on the wing at the blow-spear's sting, 
To the reddened earth I fell. 

17 [257] 



ARMY BALLADS 



And merrily with fiendish glee 

He knelt and held me fast; 
And I looked on high at the fleecy sky — 

And I thought the look was the last. 

But by the will that knows no law 
I wrenched my right hand free, 

And I drove my mandauw's gleaming point 
A hand's-breadth in his knee. 

Stung by the pain he loosened, 
And a moment bared his breast, 

And like the dash of the lightning flash 
My weapon sought its rest. 

As a log in the Moeroeng rapids 

The mighty chieftain rolled, 
And I pinned him fast for the head-stroke, 

In the reek of the blood-stained mold. 

And I pinned him fast for the head-stroke — 
But the glare of the dying eyes 

Gleamed forth to show the worthy foe 
And the heart that never dies. 



A moment toward a kampong, 
And toward a kampong maid, 

I looked . . . and a head rolled helpless 
To the crash of a falling blade. 
[2581 



AND OTHER VERSES 



IV 
With strips from my torn jacket 

I bound my arm and thigh, 
And I headed back o'er the leafy track 

With hope and spirits high. 

And as I sped with leaping heart 

All Nature seemed to sing; 
And my legs ran red where trickling bled 

The head of the Jungle King. 

The purring tree-tops called me — 

The fleecy clouds rolled by — 
And the forest green was a sun-shot sheen, 

And the sky was a laughing sky. 

And only night could halt me, 
And the stars in their proud parade, 

They bade me look to the path before 
That led to the kampong maid. 

Bleeding and torn, spent and worn, 

At last I reached the hill, 
Whence each hearth-light in the falling night 

Was a welcome bright and still. 

For each hearth-light in the falling night 
Cut clear through the growing gloam — 

Of all brave things the best that brings 
The weary Wanderer home. 
[2591 



ARMY BALLADS 



But the waiting watchers spied me, 

And met me as I ran; 
And they saw the head of the chieftain, 

And they hailed me man and man. 

But through the heart-whole greetings 

I felt the anxious gaze, 
And over my brain like a pall was lain 

The weight of the Doubter's craze. 

And I begged them to tell me quickly — 
For I quailed at the story stayed — 

And I asked them if aught had happened 
To the head of the kampong maid. 

And there in the leafy gloaming — 
Where the stars lit one by one, 

They told me the tale at my homing — 
And I felt the passions run — 

Hate as the white-hot flame jet — 
Shame as the burning bar — 

Grief as the poisoned arrow — 
Revenge as the salted scar: 

Rankling — roaring — blinding — 

Rising and ebbing low; 
Till overhead the skies burst red, 

And I tottered beneath the blow. 
[260] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



For they told of a White Man's coming, 

And the weapon that carries far; 
And his love for the Maid — but over it laid 

The hush of the falling star. 

Faithlessness — treachery — cunning — 

Weakness and love and fear — 
Oh very old was the tale they told, 

Though born year by year. 

And I drew my blade and I leapt away — 

But they sprang and held me fast: 
And they promised me there by the dead chief's hair, 

My hate should be filled to the last. 

And they showed me him bound and knotted 

To the base of a splintered tree, 
Stripped to the sun and spat upon 

And taunted — awaiting me. 

And I saw her in the shadows — 
But ... I might not know her, then — 

A sneer for the kampong women — 
And a jest for the kampong men. 



And thus in the days of my strength and pride, 

From over the distant sea, 
The White Man came in his open shame 

And stole my love from me. 
1261] 



ARMY BALLADS 



V 
The next morn at the rising sun 

The tom-toms roared their fill, 
And echoed like rolling thunder 

From hill to farthest hill. 

And the birds of the jungle fluttered 

And lifted and soared away, 
And we dragged the fettered prisoner forth 

To blink at the blinding day. 

Full length and naked on the ground 

We staked him foot and hand, 
And we laughed in glee as we watched to see 

The pest of the jungle-land. 

Oh we laughed in glee as we watched to see 

The little leeches swing, 
End on end till they reached the flesh 

Of the prostrate, struggling Thing. 

Like river flies in the summer rains 
They covered the White Man o'er — 

Body and legs and arms and face, 
Till the whole was a bleeding sore. 

And the red streams ran from the crusted pools 

And crimsoned the leafy ground, 
And the scent of gore but brought the more 

As the smell of game to the hound. 

1262] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Hour by hour I watched him die, 

Slowly day by day, 
Hour by hour I watched the flesh 

Sinking and turning gray: 

Hour by hour I heard him shriek 

To the skies and the White Man's God — 
But only the gluttons came again 

And reddened the reeking sod. 

Weeping, writhing, groaning — 

Paled to an ashen dun — 
And the clotted blood turned black as mud 

And stunk in the midday sun. 

(Bones where stretched the tautening flesh — 

A shining, yellow sheen — 
And the flies that helped the leeches work 

In the stagnant pools between.) 

Till the fourth day broke in a blaze of gold - 
And I knew the end was nigh — 

And I called the tribes from near and far, 
To watch the White Man die. 

From every kampong of the south 
Where the broad Barito winds — 

From every kampong of the east 
The murmuring hill-wind finds — 
[2631 



ARMY BALLADS 



From every kampong of the west 
Where the Djoeloi falls and leaps — 

From every kampong of the north 
Where the great Mohakkam sweeps — 

From east and west and south and north 

The mighty warriors came, 
To prove the weight of the Dyak hate 

And the shame of the naked shame. 

In noiseless scorn and wonder 
They scanned the victim there, 

Except that when an Elder spake 
To mock at his despair. 

Or when from out the long-house — 
Where loosened footboards creaked — 

A woman leaned in frenzy 
And tore her hair and shrieked. 

And from the wooded hill-tops 

The answering echoes came, 
Till all our far-flung wilderness 

Stooped down to curse his name. 

In sullen, savage silence 

They watched the streamlets flow: 
In savage, sullen silence — 

The war-lords — row on row — 
[264] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



Ranged around by rank and years, 

Oh goodly was the sight, 
Square shouldered — spare — with muscles bare 

Coiled in their knotted might — 

And little serpent eyes that gleamed 

In glittering, primal hate, 
Like adders, that beneath the leaves 

The coming foot falls wait. 

The shrunken heads about their belts 

Stared with senseless grin, 
As though in voiceless mummery 

They mocked him in his sin. 

As though in sightless greeting — 

To make his entry good 
To th' lost and leering legion 

Of the martyred brotherhood. 

We rubbed his lips with costly salt — 

(You know how far it comes) — 
And when he called for drink — we laughed — 

And rolled the Sick-man's Drums. 

They beckoned me unto his side — 
The blood-stench filled the dell — 

They asked me — "Ye are satisfied?" 
And I answered — "It is well." 
[265] 



ARMY BALLADS 



The final glaze was settling fast — 
The weary struggles ceased — 

And on his breath was the moan of death 
That prayed for life released. 

So we propped his mouth wide open 

With a knob of rotten vine, 
And the leeches entered greedily 

As white men to their wine. 

Palate and roof and tongue and gums, 

They gushed in rivers gay — 
And gasping — his own blood choked him 

And his Spirit passed away. 

This is the tale the old chief tells 
When the western gold-belt dies, 

And the jungle trees in the evening breeze 
Tower against the s\ies, 

And the good-wife ba^es the greasy cakes 
Where the \ampong hearth-fires rise. 



[266] 



NOTES 



12671 



NOTES 

The Cavalryman 19 

Dough-boy 19 

An infantryman. 

On the Water-Wagon 21 

Slang for "not drinking." 

"the mill" 21 

The guard-house or soldier prison. 

Army of Pacification 23 

Islands 24 

The Philippine Islands. 

Solitary 25 

"Solitary confinement" is punishment meted out to particularly 
obstreperous prisoners or to those under very severe sentence. 

calaboose 25 

Guard-house or soldier prison. 

M 25 

Guard-house or soldier prison. 

Ten and a Bob 25 

A prisoner's sentence of ten years and a dishonorable discharge 
from the Army. 

The Isle 25 

Refers to Angel Island in San Francisco Bay, used as a discharge 
station for time-expired soldiers returning from the Philippines 
[269] 



ARMY BALLADS 



after the Insurrection of 1899-1902. On Angel Island there was 
also a military convict station for serious offenders, who had to 
break stone. 

"the makings" 26 

The paper and tobacco for cigarettes. 

The Sultan Comes to Town 27 

Jolo 27 

Jolo pronounced Holo. 

Major Sour 28 

The Major's name was Sour — if we speak in antithesis. 

The Rookie 45 

"The Top" 45 

" The Top " is the " Top-sergeant," ie, the First Sergeant — 
the ranking non-commissioned officer of a troop or company. 

Major Sour 81 

Vigilantes 82 

Native police of Jolo. 

Shah Jehan 131 

One of the Great Moguls of India, who at Agra built the lovely, 
white marble Taj Mahal as a mausoleum for his favorite wife, who 
died in 1629. 

Near the city of Aurangabad, in the northwestern part of the 
state of Hyderabad, is the so-called "Little Taj," the Mausoleum 
of Rabi'a Durrani, the wife of a later Great Mogul, Aurangzeb. 
Though built only of stucco, and not kept in the same immaculate 
condition as the Taj Mahal, the "Little Taj," with its inset, pointed 
arches, viewed at an advantageous distance of several hundred 
feet, from just within the ground's entrance, is to me really more 
[2701 



AND OTHER VERSES 



beautiful than the splendid Taj Mahal itself, because the height 
of the "Little Taj," and, inclusively, of its arches, is greater in 
proportion to its base than is that of its famous predecessor. The 
result is a more delicate, lofty and inspiring effect— which effect 
appears, obviously, to be the most apropos and essential one to 
obtain in erecting mausoleums of this nature. 

Close, detailed inspection of the two tombs would present a 
diametrically opposite analysis, but in work such as this, it would 
seem that the most crucial aspect is the ensemble and not the 
minutiae or finis. 

Rajputana stars I33 

When in Rajputana, a great state of northwestern India, I was 
impressed by the brilliancy of the stars on a clear night. It may 
have been due to atmospheric or other conditions, but whatever 
the cause, in no other part of the World have I seen such magni- 
ficent stars. 

tulwar I33 

The large, splendid, curved sword of India. 
'Flaming Trees I33 

The trees that spread out like great umbrellas, covered on top 
with masses of blood-orange colored blossoms, and called "Flame 
of the Forest," though in the Philippines we usually nicknamed 
them "Fire Trees." 

The Doubter 177 

In the particular case of the ancient Egyptians, the true or 
monotheistic religion was purely esoteric, and consequently totally 
unappreciated by the vast uninitiated. 

The Heritage 215 

Genealogical data are usually a dreadful bore, but as I have 
mentioned my ancestors Captain John Garrett of the Revolution- 
ary Army, and afterwards a member of the Delaware Legislature, 
and, on my Mother's side, Captain Jonathan Cowpland of the 
[271] 



ARMY BALLADS 



Revolutionary Navy as well as his father, Judge Caleb Cowpland, 
who was also a member of the Provincial Assembly, in Pennsyl- 
vania, in 1729 and 1731-36, I think— simply in order not to seem 
to wish to ignore other early and patriotic members of my family- 
it would do no harm for me to complete the list of my "worthy 
forebears" in this small inconspicuous note at the end of the book, 
which, of course, can be omitted by the reader who is not interested 
in these generally considered uninteresting details. 

Thomas Garrett, formerly of England and the first of the name 
here, and not to be confused with the Quaker Garretts and other 
Garretts in this general vicinity, was settled near Chadd's Ford, 
on the Brandywine River, in southeastern Pennsylvania, as early 
as 1685, but many years before the Revolution the family moved 
down into Delaware— some years after the War coming back to 
Pennsylvania and settling in Philadelphia. Thomas Garrett's 
grant was under William Penn. 

As was customary and necessary in those days when colonies 
and homes were being founded in a new, wild and virgin land, the 
first generations "jumped in" and carved out a livelihood for them- 
selves and their children according to the meagre opportunities 
those stern and trying times afforded; but the predominant feature 
of the earliest members of the family in this country was that they 
were very extensive land owners, being possessed of large estates 
in Pennsylvania, Delaware and Virginia, though so far as I know, 
they never actually lived on their holdings in the last named 
colony. 

My Mother's family, the Grays, who settled here in 1683, also 
received their lands, which extended for a long distance between 
Philadelphia and Chester, from William Penn, the founder of 
Pennsylvania. The Grays were one of the well-known, old, 
original, Quaker families, later becoming Presbyterians, but are 
now, so far as I know, extinct in the male line, and consequently 
the name has died out, though for several generations they were 
members of the First City Troop of Philadelphia, and of the State 
in Schuylkill, or as that ancient and aristocratic Philadelphia 
organization is generally called, "The Old Fish House." 

It might be interesting to here mention that my great-great- 

F2721 



AND OTHER VERSES 



grandfather, Joseph Gray, feeling religious compunction, on 
account of being a Quaker, about actually entering the army during 
the Revolutionary War, "beat the devil around the bush" by 
becoming a military dispatch bearer, the value of whose services, 
in those days prior to the modern system of signaling and field 
telephones, can readily be imagined. 

On the side of my Father, the late Captain George L. Garrett, 
of "Anderson's Troop" and later, the Fourth Missouri Cavalry, 
of the Northern or Union Army, during the Civil War, and who, at 
the beginning of those hostilities, volunteered his services to the 
Government, not for the abolition of slavery, however worthy the 
cause, but for the preservation and maintenance of that Union his 
great-grandfather had risked life, liberty and property to aid in 
creating — on my Father's side I might briefly mention the 
following, 

Captain Goozen Gerritse Van Schaick (Van Schayck), my six 
times great-grandfather, Acting Indian Commissioner in New 
Netherland (New York State), Magistrate at Albany, 1662 etc., 
and lieutenant of cavalry, 1670, and captain, 1676. 

Johannes De Peyster, my six times great-grandfather, who 
came to New York in 1649, and was one of "The Six" to draw up 
the first charter for New York City (New Amsterdam), was 
Schepen, 1655 etc., Alderman, 1666 etc., and Deputy Mayor, 
1677. 

Captain Johannes De Peyster, son of the above, and my five 
times great-grandfather, a lieutenant of infantry and captain 
of cavalry, Mayor of New York City, 1698, and member of the 
Colonial Assembly of New York State, 1698-1701, and. 

Honorable Matthew Clarkson, my five times great-grandfather. 
Secretary of the Colony of New York in 1691, and the grandfather 
of the third Matthew Clarkson, my great-great-great-grandfather, 
who was Mayor of Philadelphia at the time of the terrible yellow 
fever epidemic in 1793, and at a period when the mayorship was a 
personal and social distinction. The first Matthew Clarkson, on 
his mother's side, who was a Kenrick, now spelled Kendrick, 
had a rather interesting ancestor, consequently also mine, 
by the name of David Kenrick, a companion of the Black 

18 1273] 



ARMY BALLADS 



Prince, son of Edward III, at the battles of Crecy and 
Poictiers. 

Kelvin 248 

The great British scientist. Born in Belfast, Ireland in 1824. 
Died near Largs, Scotland in 1907. His name is among those the 
British Government has honored by carving into the floor of 
Westminster Abbey. 

The Dyak Chief 251 

The Dyaks, a "brown" race, are the savage inhabitants of 
Central Borneo, and are said to have come originally from the 
Malay Peninsula, but to have since been gradually driven into 
the center of the island by the influx of the present Malays, who 
now inhabit the coasts and often far inland, especially up the 
rivers. 

The Dyaks, though an old, aboriginal Malay stock, differ radi- 
cally from the Malays in nearly every particular. 

They are a dark-skinned, strong, well-knit, square-shouldered 
and beautifully muscled type of men, neither tall nor short, fat 
nor lean, but comparable to the typical American cavalryman 
or football halfback or trained middle-weight boxer or wrestler. 

They have small, dark, beady, snake-like eyes, high cheek bones 
and straight black hair, often "bobbed" at the neck and frequently 
with a band around it, giving them much the appearance of North 
American Indians, were it not that their eyes and noses are smaller. 
They affect a breech-cloth only, excepting for the sake of warmth, 
when they don a light cloth jacket or a fibre coat, the latter being 
a simple affair, hanging straight, with a slit at the top through 
which the head is placed, after the manner of a present-day Ameri- 
can Army "poncho." 

A chief is distinguished by having pheasant feathers falling 
down the back of one of these coats, and in the town or "kampong" 
of Olong Liko I was the recipient of the unusual privilege of having 
a friendly Dyak chief take off his cloak-like garment that I had 
been examining, put it on over my head, and insist on my keeping 
it — which it is needless to say I was only too glad to do — and which 
[274] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



I still have preserved as the most valued treasure of all the many 
that I brought back from my travels. 

The women are of the typical heavy-waisted savage category 
frequently wearing something above the waist, but whose usual 
costume consists merely of a long cloth, resembling a skirt, wrapped 
around their legs. 

Truth compels me to ungallantly state the ladies are not prepos- 
sessing. 

The chief occupations of the Dyaks are hunting, fishing and 
tending their little truck-gardens, which mode of life probably 
accounts for their average splendid physique. 

Moeroeng 251 

The Moeroeng (River) is a long stream in Central Borneo that 
unites with the Djoeloi to form the Barito, the latter being one 
of the great rivers of Borneo, flowing from its center in a general 
southerly direction, and emptying into the Java Sea a short distance 
to the west of the southeastern extremity of the island. Pronuncia- 
tion: Moeroeng=Mooroong; Djoeloi =Jooloi. 

kampong 251 

Kampong is a native Dyak village, and consists of from one to 
three or four long houses, and sometimes small detached ones. 
The long house, the characteristic building, is anywhere from fifty 
to two or three hundred feet in length, elevated, on poles, from 
eight to twenty feet in the air. The sides of the houses are of 
rough boards or of bark and the roofs usually of bark shingles. 
The age of the dwellings can be told by the height they stand above 
the ground, those on the highest poles being the oldest ones, 
because of the former greater savagery of, and more frequent war- 
fare between, the natives. Here literally we have a case of the 
home being the fortress. 

Within, the long house is of one of two arrangements: either 
it consists of a huge hall, often decorated with the skull and horns 
of the chase, running practically the entire length, and with family 
rooms opening into it and bake-rooms or kitchens at both ends, 
or the house consists merely of one very long room without parti- 
[275] 



ARMY BALLADS 



tions, the different families, with their crude cooking hearths, 
"squatting" around the sides of the room at intervals of ten or 
fifteen feet. Occasionally some of the families will hang up cloth 
divisions. Here, truly, we have the communal scheme of living 
carried to its ultimate extreme. 

headless waist 251 

The Dyaks are the famous "head-hunters" of Borneo, and 
although their inhuman proclivities of procuring heads for their 
belts, in order to give them certain distinctions, among them, the 
prerogative of marrying have, at the present time been largely 
suppressed by the Dutch authorities, nevertheless a traveler's trip 
through Central Borneo is dangerous owing to the fact that some 
actual head-hunting bands are still roaming the dense jungles 
through which he is passing. 

Due to pure luck my path was not crossed by any of these outlaw 
nomad troops, which is possibly why I am writing this to-day, as 
one white man, even though armed with a long 38 Army Colt 
revolver, could probably make little headway against a whole band 
of these savages. My three Malay coolies were highly trustworthy 
and efficient, but I am not positive as to exactly what extent I 
could have counted on them in the eventuality of an actual attack. 

lianes 252 

Long, bare, tropical, vine-like growths that sometimes wrap 
themselves around the trunk of a tree, and sometimes hang from 
the branches straight to the ground. 

leeches 253 

Little gray leeches, up to half an inch in length that, as a bare- 
footed person walks through the jungle, attach themselves to his 
feet and ankles and suck the blood, until removed or until, having 
gotten their fill and swollen to many times their former size, fall 
back to the ground satiated. 

In the case of a white man, they will burrow through the seam 
at the back of his sock to get the blood they crave. 
[276] 



AND OTHER VERSES 



proa 254 

Pronounced prow, and is any small crude Dyak or Malay Bornese 
boat, propelled by paddling. 

blow-spear 254 

A spear with a hollow shaft through which the Dyaks blow a 
light, wooden dart or arrow. I have seen these in Java and the 
Philippines also. 

mandauw (or parang) 254 

Pronounced mandow, and is the typical Dyak sword with a 
straight blade broadening gradually until near the end, then 
abruptly narrowing again to a point. It is sharpened on one edge 
only. 

chief poles 255 

High wooden flag-like poles, carved near the base, and with long 
tassels falling from the top. Erected in front of the long house in 
memory of dead kampong (village) chiefs. 

Moeroeng rapids 258 

The Moeroeng River has magnificent rapids, which I and my 
three Malay coolies shot on my return by river from Olong Liko 
to Poeroek Tjahoe. 

tom-toms 262 

Round, drum-like, metal musical instruments, beaten with a 
stick having a large knob. 

(You know how jar it comes) 265 

Refers to the fact that salt is precious to the Dyaks, and must be 
gotten from the distant coasts, through traders. 

Sick-man s Drums 265 

The beating of the tom-toms, with the playing of other "musical" 
instruments, when a Dyak is sick. The nearer death, the louder 
(2771 



ARMY BALLADS 



the beating. Supposed to be very efficacious. In this particular 
case the "Sick-man's Drums" were, of course, beaten ironically. 

greasy cakes 266 

Thick, round, half-cooked, greasy, Dyak cakes, utterly indigest- 
ible and unprepossessing. 



[278] 



CRITICISMS 



|279| 



CRITICISMS 

Criticisms of Erwin Clarkson Garrett's previous books, 
almost all of whose contents, together with several new 
poems, are contained in this volume. 

Boston Evening Transcript: ***** In the ballads there is 
breathed a spirit and a fascination akin to Kipling's best Oriental poems. * * 

Chicago Inter-Ocean: ***** p0 ems straight from the heart of 
a private soldier, full of freshness and color, swing and melody. * * * * * 

New York Evening Post: ***** Jhey are the poems of a 
man who has marched and fought and slept with the Army, and they have 
the right ring. ***** 

Baltimore Sun: ***** E rw j n Clarkson Garrett reveals him- 
self as a first-rate open air singer of American Balladry. ***** 
his sincerity appeals and the dramatic and original qualities of his work, 
its picturesqueness and human nature and good ballad swing is refresh- 

Washinglon, D. C, Evening Star: ***** Jh; s wr ;ter has the 
gift of words and rhyme and rhythm. ***** 

C. G. Child, Ph.D., in The Alumni Register: ***** His 
lines are pitched to a singing tune; his rhythms are not exotic or bookish; 
he is overhearing the bugle, the chanty, the song of the camp. So very 
large a part of Mr. Garrett's work has displayed this form of lyric inspira- 
tion, leading toward the descriptive and the dramatic, that it is of interest 
to note in this connection one or two poems of more purely lyrical inspira- 
tion — notably "My Loves," which tells of the lure of far-off lands, their 
waves and winds, and the charming fancy entitled "The Rose." * * * * 

Army and Navy Register: ***** Jh e po em s show a keen 
appreciation of the romantic and picturesque side of the soldier's life with 
touches of humor and pathos that make up the comedy and tragedy of the 
calling. Mr. Garrett's verses are truly sympathetic and appeal to worthy 

[281] 



ARMY BALLADS 



sentiment. They are among the best of anything which has been written 
in any form concerning the Army and they deserve appreciation. If the 
Army has a poet who has shown himself by his verses capable of expressing 
in this form, service traditions and military life, it must be this former soldier. 
Mr. Garrett has preserved the varying conditions of the soldier's life and the 
soldier's sentiment in verses that are really worth while. ***** 

Philadelphia Press: ***** The American soldier has found 
his Kipling in Erwin Clarkson Garrett. 



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